


Always with you

by DeanaWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, F/M, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-07
Updated: 2011-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanaWinchester/pseuds/DeanaWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fairytale for adults about people, horses and the important things in life. When Dean, a stableman and horse trainer and Castiel, the top-notch lawyer with issues meet, sparks fly. Castiel comes to the estate to take a pause from his everyday life, and possibly turn it into a different direction. Meeting Dean and falling in love with him turns it completely upside down, but Castiel doesn’t mind it one bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Runaway

The first of April had always been a special day for Dean Winchester. As a kid, it had been the time of plotting pranks, most of them at first against his younger brother, Sam, later against the girl (or boy) he’d been pining after at that moment. Later, after he’d stood up to his parents for the first time in his life, the first of April had became the anniversary of him leaving his childhood home, and starting a new life in a different environment, at the young age of barely eighteen. Now, fourteen years later, it was usually when he first let the horses in his care spend the whole day on the fields.

Working with horses was not what he had in mind for his future, especially with his elite upbringing, the private schools with uniforms and rules strict enough to anger a saint, but nevertheless, it’s something he’s been enjoying ever since he had first set a foot in a stable when he was sixteen. Back then, he’d only done it to anger his parents, who had been so caught up in deciding what the best would be for their sons that they’d forgotten to ask them about what they wanted, but later he had fallen in love with the horses, and after his lessons he had even started helping out in the riding-school he visited. That’s where he’d first met Charles Shurley, an absentminded writer with a big heart for horses… and no talent for riding them. Over the years they became friends, so Chuck had been the first to know when Dean left his parents. Also, he’d been the one to give him shelter, food and a shoulder to lean on when carrying the world’s weight became too much. Though he hadn’t asked for anything in exchange, Dean couldn’t just take without giving. When - after a lot of pining, thinking and planning - Chuck and his longtime girlfriend, Becky had finally decided to buy an own stable, and filled it with horses, Dean had taken control of it. He had groomed and fed the horses, cared about the finances, and he’s been doing it ever since.

As the first of April neared, Dean started clearing the meadows of any debris that might hurt the horses, and when the day came, he got up earlier to let them out as soon as possible. He took the longe, and led the horses out, one by one. They seemed exhilarated by the fresh, cool air, and immediately started munching on the flourishing grass. Dean let his favorite horse, a palomino mare called Crystal to be the last one, as he planned on taking her out for a ride. He loved the feeling of being completely free of any restrictions, so he only put a bridle on the horse, let her walk around a little to warm up, and when he saw that she was ready, he adjusted the Stetson-hat on his head, and climbed onto Crystal’s broad, comfortable back. First they started out in a walk, then he gently nudged her up into a slow trot just to get used to the circumstances, and when he felt Crystal’s need to go faster, he let her quicken her pace and change her gait into gallop.

Crystal was the fastest horse in the stable. That was partly the reason Dean loved her most among all his ‘kids’, as he usually referred to the horses; but not the only one. She seemed to be able to read one’s mind, and usually she didn’t even need controlling, she just knew where and how to go, so Dean could just lean back, and enjoy the ride. The first time he’d let the mare take over like that, they had ended up on a gorgeous field of flowers, where Dean had never been before, but since then it has become his favorite place. When Crystal reached the field, she slowed down without being instructed to, trotted right into the middle of the sea of flowers, and let her rider get off of her back. Dean took the bridle off, and while he lay down on the grass, she started eating, sometimes nuzzling Dean’s neck with her nose in the process.

“You know, Crystal, if you were a human girl, I’d marry you in a heartbeat,” Dean whispered, playfully caressing the mare’s head. Crystal snorted, as if she’d found the idea stupid, and continued nurturing herself, without even looking at him for the better part of an hour. When she felt full though, she immediately signaled her need to head back to the stables, mostly by gently kicking his feet.

“Okay, girl, you know what? You’re getting a little pushy there; forget that I kinda asked you to marry me,” Dean muttered, and stood up, leaving a Dean-shaped dent in the grass. He fished out the bridle from somewhere under the flowers, put it on the horse, and they headed back to the stables.

After they got back, Dean scrubbed Crystal down, and let her in to play with the others. He watched the ‘kids’ for a while, then he remembered that maybe he should do something constructive too, and went to clean out the stalls. On his way in he saw Chuck’s cat, a huge, gray – and in Dean’s honest opinion fugly – thing, that was just trying to hunt down a weirdly silvery mouse. At first it seemed like the little rodent could escape, but it ran out of luck, and ended up in the cat’s claws.

Dean wasn’t a fan of mice, especially because they gnawed on anything they could get their teeth on, which usually happened to be the horses’ oats or Dean’s cereals, but he wasn’t a fan of seeing their agony either, so he planned on turning around and letting the cat kill the mouse in private. The mouse chose that exact moment to look straight into Dean’s eyes though, and it seemed like it wasn’t just looking AT him, it was looking INTO him, with the all-knowing look of an old, experienced man in its small hazel eyes. Without thinking Dean grabbed the cat, and threw it right out of the stall, not caring about its huffing-clawing hissy fit. The saved rodent kept looking at Dean, and for a moment it seemed to transform into a short, brown haired man with a flirty smirk and the same warm, hazel eyes the mouse had, before it broke out of its stupor, and fled to hide under a crate.

The cat was still angrily clawing at the door, not that Dean cared about his misery, he kinda hated the cat anyway. As he wasn’t sure how long it would take for the feline threat to find a way back into the stall, he slowly approached the crate, and picked it up, but the mouse didn’t flee like he had expected it to. Instead it looked up at him once again, that strange intelligence still nestled in its eyes, and it seemed like it was trying to deliver a message with it. The human and the animal kept staring at each other, and when Dean finally moved, he heard a voice. Actually, he wasn’t sure if he heard it from inside or outside his head, but he heard the voice from somewhere.

“You saved my life. Almost as if it was a scene from a fairytale. Thank you for doing so. Your good deed won’t ever be forgotten. I won’t be ungrateful for that… because really, how would it look if I just ran away towards a mouse hole without saying anything. So, here it goes. Your wishes may come true after this encounter. You know the drill, right? Be careful, what you wish for…” The voice said, and the moment the last word died on the invisible lips, the mouse shook itself, and it disappeared through a rift in the wall. Even though Dean was sure that it was some kind of hallucination, a work of his own fantasy, he kept looking for the mouse for the next two days, searched the stable from basement to roof, but didn’t find anything.

The next evening Dean had a car accident: He hit a wall with his car, a black Chevrolet Impala from the year 1967. Weirdly, the car survived it with a few minor scratches. Dean was in a coma for almost a whole week however.

~.~.~.~.~.~

As an aftereffect of the accident, Dean couldn’t remember how he ended up halfway through a thick brick wall with his car… on a road that’s straight and totally bump-less for miles. The thing he remembered even less was the sentence he literally yelled at his mother through the phone: “Mom, I’d rather violently kiss a wall than Jo, alright?!”

When he woke from the coma, he found that he wasn’t alone. Looking to his right, he saw two dark chestnut mops of hair resting on the side of his bed in a rather uncomfortable position. Dean tried to clear his throat, but the sound that has left his mouth was more animal than human, and it woke up the owners of those mops of hair.

“Dean?” Sam Winchester asked, blinking sleepily at his brother. “Don’t try to speak, with a tube jammed down your throat it would hardly work anyway. Let me call the doc, just a sec. Sarah will look after you while I’m gone, okay?” he said, and after he shook his girlfriend awake, he left the room. Sarah lifted her head, and looked at Dean with huge, slightly unfocused eyes.

“You scared Sam half to death. Don’t do that again, or I swear I will hit you.” She threatened him with a gentle smile on her face. Dean tried to answer her by using his pantomime-skills, but his body just wouldn’t obey. “Anyway, we’re glad you’re awake.” She continued, and stood up to stretch her limbs.

Sam arrived a few seconds later with a young, female doctor in tow, who promptly sent the visitors out of the room. “Mr. Winchester, you’re awake, I’m glad to see that. My name is Dr. Cara Roberts. Now that you know whose mother you have to curse later, I’m just going to remove the tube from your throat, hold still. You probably won’t like this, but it will be better without this.” She said, and with a quick move she pulled the tube out. Dean started coughing, but the doctor got him a glass of water, and after he drank it, he felt better.

“How long have I been here?” Dean asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“For almost a week. Before you ask, I have to tell you that I have no idea why you were in a coma for so long; you don’t even have any serious injuries on you. A few bruises, that’s all.”

“My head hurts though…” He complained, carefully scratching at the mentioned body part.

“Well, you’ve got a bump there, but not a big one. Can you remember what had happened?” She inquired while checking his pupils’ reactions with a small flashlight.

“Only some fuzzy moments. I think, I was talking to someone on the phone, but I’m not sure.”

“I see. What’s the last thing you can clearly remember?” Dr. Roberts asked, trying to distract Dean while she freed him from the catheter and the IV needle.

“That morning I took my favorite horse, Crystal out for a ride. I can remember that. After that, it’s all foggy.”

“Some form of amnesia almost always occurs after an accident, be it forgetting a few minutes, or a whole day. I’d say you have nothing to worry about. Do you feel pain anywhere?” The doctor asked as she removed the EEG’s electrodes from Dean’s chest.

“Yeah, my head, like I said. It’s not that bad though.” he answered, trying to sit up.

“Okay, I’ll schedule you for a few scans anyway, just for safety’s sake. Until then, feel free to be as active, and move as much as you can, but try not to overdo anything.” Dr. Roberts smiled at her patient, and she turned to leave, when Dean stopped her.

“Doc, when can I go home?” Dean asked, his voice still painfully raspy from the lack of use.

“Look, Mr. Winchester, you just woke up. First we want to know if everything is okay with you, and then we’ll talk about you going home, okay?” The doctor answered, and when Dean nodded, she left the room.

A little later Sam and Sarah walked back in.

“Dean, I am glad you’re okay, but… what happened? You’re one hell of a driver, and that road you almost got killed on is perfectly straight for miles. How on earth did you manage to swerve off and crash into a wall there?” Sam wondered, pacing up and down in the room. Sarah and Dean both followed him with their eyes.

“Sammy, sit down, you’re making me nauseous. And I don’t have a clue about what the hell happened back there. I think I was talking on the phone, then I just… apparently, I crashed into a wall, and the next thing I know I’m here, hooked up onto every life-supporting system known to man. Damn, Sam! My car, is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s okay, hardly a few scratches on her. I took her to Bobby. He’s probably already fixed the paintwork by now.” Sarah said before her boyfriend could open his mouth and say anything rude about Dean caring more about the car than himself. She stood up, and said goodbye to Dean before leaving for work.

Sam walked his girlfriend to her car, and on the way back to Dean’s room he bought some food for his brother. Dean’s eyes lit up as he saw the ham-cheese sandwiches and the bottle of orange juice, and before he could think about quick movements after a week spent in coma, he got out of bed to grab the food. The dizziness came, and swept him off his feet in a heartbeat. Luckily the bed was still near, so he could lean back against it.

“Dean, you okay?” Sam asked, worry evident in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m good, I just forgot I’ve spent a week in a damn bed,” Dean hissed as he sat down on the edge of the mattress, and casted a meaningful look at the food in Sam’s hand.

“Oh, sorry, here’s your food.”

“Thanks, bitch,” The elder Winchester murmured. He started eating, with an expression of ecstasy on his face.

“Call me a bitch again, and you can ask someone else to get food for you, jerk!” Sam answered, but without any real threat in his voice. He expected Dean to once again deliver his answer to the nickname, but the elder Winchester was too occupied with his food. Sam watched his brother wolf down the sandwiches, and empty the bottle of juice, which happened in a few short moments.

After he filled his empty stomach, Dean leaned his back against his pillows, and he almost immediately started blinking drowsily. After a week spent not-quite-like-sleep unconsciousness an hour of being awake was enough to wear Dean down, and even though he didn’t really want to sleep so soon after waking up, he had no choice. Sam helped his brother back under the covers, and when he made sure that Dean was comfortably wrapped up in his blanket, he turned around to leave.

“Hey Sam, before you go, please turn the TV on.”

“You look like you’re going to fall asleep in 5 seconds flat. What do you need the TV for?”

“You know close my house is to the stable. I can hear almost every noise the horses make, and believe me, they make lot of it after I turn off the lights and go to bed. Diamond usually starts playing around with his automatic water trough at that time, Maniac always lays down to sleep, and she keeps kicking the wall rather loudly with her left hind leg in her dream, it’s like a reflex or something… Mirage turns around approximately fifty times before finally laying down to sleep, and with every turn he hits the door with his butt. Beau usually whickers for a while, und urges the others to do it too… I consider those little noises to be their way of saying goodnight. So, I can’t sleep when there’s no noise, because I always start worrying about the kids, no matter if I am not even at home,” Dean said with a wide yawn at the end.

“Okay, weirdo, here’s your noise.” Sam grinned at his brother, and turned the TV on. “Loud enough?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” The elder Winchester mumbled, burying his face into his pillow. Only a few seconds passed until his breathing evened out, and he fell asleep, clutching the edge of his blanket to his chest. Sam smiled at the sight, and before he left, he turned the TV’s volume down a little bit.

Dean slept through the entire day without any interruptions, and when he woke up, he felt definitely better. He sat up, and looked around. For a moment he wasn’t sure where he was, but then he remembered that he was in a hospital. The room was completely dark save for the dim light of the TV screen, which was barely enough for Dean to notice the small lamp on the bedside table. He turned it on, and a loud groan left his lips at the sight of its too bright light. After his eyes got used to it, he slowly stood up, and with small steps he walked toward the bathroom. He was not as dizzy as he had been that morning, but he was still far from feeling completely okay. Once in the bathroom, he splashed some water on his face, relieved himself, and walked back to the bed. Even though he felt more and more secure on his legs with every step, he was still glad to sit down on the surprisingly comfortable mattress. He crawled to the middle of the mattress, and sat down, crossing his legs, not wanting to lie back down yet. He turned up the TV’s volume up a little, and skipped through the channels. In the end he settled on a news channel. The reporter, a young, pretty redhead stood in front of a building, which looked an awfully lot like the very same hospital Dean was lying in. She was just beginning with her report, so Dean tried to pay attention in case she was telling anything important about the hospital.

“My name is Anna Milton, and I’m standing here in front of the Three Rivers Hospital. This is where star lawyer, Castiel Engelhart is being treated after the police freed him from captivity. A week ago he was kidnapped from his house in the early morning hours by armed men, whose identities have not yet been revealed. The abduction led to imprisonment in terrible conditions in the cellar of an old apartment building.

As we have previously reported, Doctor Engelhart’s last big case concerning corruption in town hall stirred up quite a lot of controversial opinions. He’s been threatened before, his car and office both burned down after a yet unknown person set them on fire. One time he was even personally attacked, but he didn’t back down, despite the threats becoming more and more violent over the last months.

According to a letter from his kidnappers, which we – as well as other major networks – just received today, they were going to kill him, as a warning to everyone trying to uncover their business. They also attached a photo, showing him in his captivity. Luckily, in the end this photo helped the police to find him…”

The moment the photo appeared on the screen, Dean stopped paying attention to the reporter, focusing on the picture instead. It showed a man in a rundown, dark room, in front of a dirty wall, tied to a chair in ripped clothes. One of his kidnappers was holding his head up, with his hand fisted in his victim’s hair. The lawyer was bloody and brutally beaten: lips split, face all bruised, one of his eyes was so swollen it wouldn’t even open, his left arm obviously broken, but that wasn’t what shocked Dean right to his core. It was the amount of pain, desperation and death wish in the man’s huge blue eyes that did the job. Shivering, Dean turned the TV off, and lay down, pulling his covers over his head.

It took him quite some time to get rid of the haunting memory of the beaten man, but that while didn’t last long. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt of him. In his dream, he caressed the man’s broken face until it healed: the ripped skin stitched itself together, the bruises faded, the blood washed itself away wherever he touched, but even though everything seemed to get better, two things wouldn’t change. He still couldn’t really see the man’s healed face, no matter how hard he tried, it remained fuzzy, smudgy like a bad, out of focus photograph; and that scared, painful look in the man’s eyes stayed too.


	2. Someone special

Almost two months later the time Dean spent in the hospital – along with the upsetting picture – was nothing more than a faint, unpleasant memory barely even crossing Dean’s mind. After he’d been let out of the hospital, he threw himself full-heartedly into his work around the horses, trying to make up for the lost time. Not that his temporal replacement, Andy was bad with them, it’s just that… Andy wasn’t him, and Dean was sure that was something he had to make up for anyway.

While he was away, Chuck bought a new horse. Dean referred to the action as “buying a horse in a poke”, as Chuck hadn’t even seen the horse before he bought him, saving the poor beast from the slaughterhouse. The horse-in-a-poke went by the name Judas. He was a huge, gold champagne colored gelding, with a white star on his face, and a fully-fledged fear of everything and anything. Though he was getting better and better in Dean’s loving care, it was still obvious that he’d been abused before, so Dean did everything he could to win Judas’ trust. Every day, he took him out for a short ride, and he noticed that somewhere deep Judas was an amazing horse, with great stamina and good pace, a real treat to ride on, and that only made him even more intent on fixing him. Their ride-outs always took place on a sandy, barely used back track on the estate, because that was the only way Dean could make sure that nothing could scare Judas even more.

The spring turned into a hot, dry summer almost unnoticeably. The yellow cowslips and the purple violets slowly gave their place over to daisies on Dean’s favorite field, completely covering it in white, almost as if it was a bride-to-be in her wedding dress. Every time Dean took Judas there, the horse seemed to be just as mesmerized by the endless sea of white flowers as his rider was. They spent hours riding around on the rims of the field, not wanting to damage the plants more than necessary, and by the time the first flowers started withering, Dean was sure he had won Judas’ trust. After that, he started to involve Becky with Judas; because he knew she would be the one riding him most of the time.

~.~.~.~.~.~

The day Castiel Engelhart became a part of Dean’s life started out just like every other day. As usual, he woke up early. After taking a quick shower and shoveling down some ham and eggs as breakfast he went to see the horses, and that’s when the day started becoming crazier and crazier.

“Good morning, kids, how are you doing? You’re hungry, huh?” He grinned. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that.”

As Dean walked to the storage room – situated at the back of the stable – Judas stuck his head out of his stall, and gently bit into his shoulder.

“Oh, look at that, now you’re comfy enough to get cocky with me, boy?” Dean laughed, and patted the horse’s nose. Judas snorted, and pulled his snout back, as if he was grinning. “Damn you, toothy bastard.”

After Dean fed the horses, he led them out into the pen, and went back to clean the stable. He almost reached the building without any incident. Almost. He heard some noise from behind him, and by the time he turned around to see what caused it, he found himself knocked over by almost 1600 pounds of an overeager horse.

“Christ, Judas, what on earth are you doing?! Almost ran me over, you insane gee-gee !” Dean scolded him after he managed to get back on his feet. “How did you get out of the pen anyway? If you broke the gate, I’m gonna cut back on your food, until the damage is covered!” He muttered, his anger quickly resolving. By the time he reached the pen, he was grinning again. There was no damage, and two huge hoof-shaped dents in the ground a few feet away from the fence made the happenings perfectly clear. “You jumped over the fence. Which means, you were taught how to. You horse-in-a-poke are becoming a better and better deal by the minute. But tell me, what am I supposed to do with you now? You can’t just keep jumping over the fence every time you fancy…”

“Maybe we could buy new fences, a bit higher ones,” a female voice said from behind Dean. He turned around, and saw Becky standing there, with a grin wide enough to match his. “At  
first I was so angry at Chuck for buying him, and now I can’t imagine my life without Judas, even though I’ve barely ridden him.”

“I don’t think it’s going to take long now for him to trust you just as he trusts me.” Dean smiled, and nodded towards the gelding who was lovingly mouthing at Becky’s neck. “I’m going to take him out for another ride a bit later, just to see what he knows about jumping, and if we manage to survive that without any problems, you can start working with him on your own, okay?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait.” She smiled, and walked away, with Judas happily trailing after her.

“Hey, Becky!” Dean called out.

“Yeah?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, let me tell you that Romeo is following you. Please, come back, and make him stay put in the pen. Apparently I just lost my position as the person of authority in his eyes.”

“Okay, I’ll do what I can.” Becky laughed, and started caressing Judas’ neck, trying to lure him back into the pen.

This time Dean managed to get to the stable without problems. Whistling loudly he grabbed the pitchfork, and started cleaning the stalls. Every time he did this, he imagined the expression his father would wear if he saw him right in that moment, and somehow, in a twisted, childish way this fantasy always made him smile.

Halfway through the work he stopped for an hour to eat and rest. This happened at the same time Sam had his own lunch break at the lawyer’s office he was working in, so they spent some time talking to each other on the phone. His brother was the only person in his family Dean actually wanted to keep contact with, so they were just as close to each other was they had been in their childhood. Sam didn’t care about Dean’s job, about him not fulfilling the promising plans their parents made for him, he loved his brother for what he was, and for Dean that was worth more than anything in the world.

When Sam had to hang up and head back to the office, Dean finished the stalls, and put the saddle on Judas, who – to Dean’s utter surprise - actually stayed put in the pen after Becky told him to. They headed out, but this time Dean decided to take another route, where he knew there were fallen trees and a few decayed wood fences along the trail, so he could test Judas’ knowledge about jumping.

Dean was absolutely amazed by the horse. He would have never thought that the scaredy-horse was as good at jumping as he was. Judas jumped over obstacles most horses would run away from, scared to death, but not him. Sadly, there was one thing he got scared of: a huge, shiny car driving down the trail. Dean could feel the tremors of terror running through the horse, his heartbeat knocking frantically on his rider’s calves.

“Hey, boy, calm down, it’s just a car, nothing to be scared of. You’ve seen things like that, my baby is louder and bigger than that one, and you’re not scared of her, are you?” Dean bent down onto Judas’ neck, whispering into his ear. For a moment the horse seemed to calm a little, but as the car got nearer, he reared up onto his hind legs, kicked out with the front left one, and all Dean could do was to shield himself from the fall. As soon as he hit the ground, he rolled over on his shoulder, this way he managed to get out from under Judas’ hooves. He felt blood trickling down his back, but he was more worried about the horse, which kept rearing and prancing in panic. At least Judas was scared enough not to run away, Dean thought, but that didn’t help much. He still couldn’t get near enough to calm him down, and the car was getting nearer and nearer, until it finally hurtled past them with a loud screech of its tires on the gravel, tossing the horse into another fit of panicking.

“Oh, the beeping fudge beep it, I don’t care if it’s God himself driving that beeping car, I’m gonna hack him up into tiny little pieces and fertilize the front lawn with him!” Dean cursed, angrily shaking his fist at the driver of the car.

With the source of fear gone, Judas slowly started to calm down, eventually letting the man near enough to gently pat his back. Dean grabbed the bridle, and he pulled at it until Judas began walking, still occasionally rearing.

“Everything’s fine now. Calm down, there’s nothing to be scared of, it’s gone. It’s okay, I know it scared you, but it’s over now.” He muttered, keeping his hand on Judas’ neck, just above his pulse point.

It took almost an hour for the horse to calm, but seeing him suffering for so long made Dean murderous. He kept mumbling curses while he checked Judas over, forming plans in his head to find out who that idiot in the car was and to put the fear of god into him. When he was sure Judas was fine enough to accept a rider again, he climbed back onto his back, nudged him into a trot, and they headed back to the Shurley Estate.

Once they were back home again, and Dean checked another three times to make sure that Judas was absolutely okay, he went to find Becky. He wanted to ask her to take care of Judas for a bit, so he could go out with another horse to see if the car that scared Judas was somewhere near. Dean started walking towards the main house, but he was way too agitated to keep his pace slow. By the time he reached the house, he was out of breath – but not only because he ran for a while. No, the damn car that indirectly almost killed him was parking there in the driveway, and Dean could’ve sworn it was grinning smugly at him.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered trotting inside the house. He heard voices from the direction of the living room, so he headed there. Chuck and Becky were both there, happily chatting with a man Dean had never seen before. Without greeting anyone, he walked up to the man. “That Camaro out there, is she yours?” he gritted his teeth.

“Yeah, it is. Is that a problem? It’s not for sale, though if you really want it, I’m sure we can work something out.” The man answered, appreciatively running his eyes over Dean’s body.

“Oh, yeah? How about I don’t hit you right here and now, like I want to, for almost killing me, you ass?! Did you even notice that you scared a poor horse to death when you hurtled past us as if the freaking devil was on your tail? And anyway, what the hell were you doing on that back road? It hasn’t been used in ages.” Dean yelled, threateningly leaning over the stranger. The man’s bright blue eyes filled with fear, but Dean didn’t notice it.

“Calm down, Dean.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Becky. I’m not taking Judas on the non-used back roads for fun; I’m doing it because he’s not ready yet for cars or any other mechanized company, especially not ones racing towards him at 100 mph! He freaked, threw me down, and for the better part of an hour I couldn’t even get near him. He was constantly rearing and kicking. We’re lucky he didn’t injure himself in the process.”

“I know it’s hard, but please, calm down.” Chuck interjected, and the unsaid “or else” in his voice snapped Dean out of his angered haze. For the first time that day, he actually looked at the stranger, who was trying to curl up into a ball in his chair, and his heart dropped at the sight. He turned away, and as he did so, he saw the disapproving look in both Chuck’s and Becky’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, and hurried out of the house. He went to check up on Judas, but even the horse looked at him like he screwed something royally up.

“Okay, I know. I was a little harsh, but damn, we could’ve both died out there,” he whispered into Judas’ ear, nodding towards the general direction of the back road. Judas turned his head to look at him, and pressed a slobbery horse-kiss onto his face. “I love you too.” Dean smiled, patted the horse’s neck, and went to take a shower.

By the time Dean emerged from his bathroom, clean and fully dressed, he found Becky sitting on a chair in his kitchen, looking serious, and a little angry. Before she could say anything though, Dean began talking.

“I know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

“That’s not exactly what I wanted to say,” Becky shook her head. “I understand why you were so angry, and maybe I would’ve yelled too, if it happened to me, but you don’t know who you were yelling at, and the yelling wasn’t even the worst part of it. Does the name Castiel Engelhart ring a bell?” She asked.

“Not really. Should it?”

“I think so, yeah. It’s been all over the news back then. He’s a lawyer… or, he used to be, I’m not sure which. Anyway, he had this big case, he was trying to take down a few corrupt top dogs. But of course they didn’t really like the idea, and they did everything they could to stop him.”

“I remember now. They kidnapped him. Damn, are you trying to say that the man in there was him? And I threatened to hit him. Christ, is he okay?”

“He’s fine. You scared him good, but I’m sure he’ll get over it. He’s a good guy, Dean. The years as a top-notch lawyer changed him a little, but deep down he’s still the boy next door.”

“So, you know him? I thought… eh, you know what, never mind. I don’t know, what I thought.”

“He and his family lived next to us back when I was growing up. Even though Castiel is older than me, we’ve always been friends. I was freaking out when I heard he was kidnapped.”

“So, that’s why you were that antsy the week I had my accident?”

“Yep. I just didn’t want to talk about it, that’s why you didn’t know about it. Every time I visited you in the hospital, I spent some time with him too. I was the only one visitor he let in, actually. I offered to let him to come here to heal, but he declined my offer. I don’t know, why he decided to come here now. Not that I’m not happy he did, I just wasn’t expecting him.”

“I should tell him I’m sorry for threatening him.”

“Yes, you should. But please, wait until after dinner, okay? I’m going to make his favorite food, I learnt the recipe from his mom. I’m sure that will put him in a good mood.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know who he is.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I haven’t talked about him earlier, I just didn’t think about you and him ever meeting, you know?” Becky smiled apologetically, and she stood up to leave.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. Before you go, could you please check if the wound on the back of my neck needs stitches? I must have gotten it when Judas threw me down. I think it just started bleeding again, and getting it to stop for the first time was a bitch.”

~.~.~.~.~.~

“Thank you, Becky, you’re a wonderful cook,” Dean said, trying to force a smile onto his face. The food had been good, amazing even, but the situation they had eaten it in had been less fortunate and very awkward. Castiel had spent the whole time glaring daggers at Dean, who in turn had been looking at Becky for any signs of optic encouragement, but aside from two little smiles she had flashed towards Dean during the almost forty minutes of dinner, she was too busy flirting with Chuck, who of course flirted back.

“I made some dessert too. Chuck, could you please help me?” Becky smiled at her boyfriend, and then winked at Dean.

The moment they were alone, Dean looked at Castiel, and cleared his throat.

“Look, I should probably… “He began, right in the moment Castiel opened his mouth to say something too. Then, both of them stopped talking at the exact same time and just sat looking at each other.

“You can go first, if you want to,” Castiel said after a short pause, and Dean had to swallow an imaginary lump from his throat in favor of being able to talk.

“We really got off on the wrong foot here, and... I just wanted to say sorry for my behavior earlier. I was still full of adrenaline, and I didn’t think. Becky told me a few things about you, and I know how badly I scared you. I’m really sorry,” He muttered, intently looking at the floor under his shoes.

“Yeah, well, I’m really sorry too for scaring your horse. I didn’t think either. I guess that kinda makes us a couple,” Castiel answered with a tentative smile, and Dean actually looked up to see it, as if he knew in advance that something like that would happen.

“Let’s just forget it. Forget it, and start everything new, okay?”

“Okay. So, my name is Castiel Engelhart. Nice to meet you,” he said, reaching out towards Dean with his right hand.

“Castiel, like the angel?” He asked, taking the offered limb into his own, and firmly shaking it before releasing it.

“Yeah, like the angel. My parents were religious, and they thought angel names would go well with our last name, so my siblings and I got angel names too. Hilarious,” Castiel said, making air quotes with his fingers.

“I’m Dean Winchester.”

“Winchester, like the gun?” Castiel asked, trying to stifle his grin, with not much success though. He enjoyed that for once he was able to ask a stupid question about the other person’s name too.

“No. Winchester, like the computer part,” Dean answered, rolling his eyes, and then he laughed at Castiel’s confused face. “You know, the hard drive? It’s called a winchester.”

“I’ve never been intimate enough with a hard drive to ask for its name,” He deadpanned, and that only made Dean laugh harder. A moment later Castiel joined him, and Dean did his best not to dwell on how adorably his nose crinkled when he laughed.

A few moments later Becky and Chuck re-entered the dining room, carrying plates with huge pieces of homemade triple chocolate cake, topped with fresh strawberries. Dean grinned at Becky, and sat down, eagerly waiting for her to set a plate down in front of him. When it happened, he threw himself at the dessert, and cleaned his plate in a minute flat. Castiel seemed to be just as blown away by the cake as Dean was, and in the end both of them asked for another slice, winking conspiratorially at each other.

After Castiel retreated to the guest room, and Dean left too, Becky grinned at her boyfriend while clearing the table.

“I’ll bet that these two will get it on in a month… Or, wait. Hm, let me think… I give them three weeks tops.”

“Eww, Becksie, thanks for that image.” Chuck stuck his tongue out disgustedly.

“You’re quite welcome!” She laughed, and leaned down to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. gee-gee: a kid-word for horse, mostly used in the UK, but I found it incredibly adorable, so I thought I’d use it 


	3. Thirteen horses

The next morning Dean woke up earlier than he was used to. He tried to fall back asleep, but he couldn’t, so with a loud sigh he got out of bed, absently scratching at his stomach. By the time the alarm clock let out the first annoying beep, Dean had already showered, eaten his breakfast and checked the news and his emails on his smartphone. Moreover, he was actually starting to get bored. He didn’t want to disturb the horses’ routine and let them out earlier, and he didn’t have anything else to do, so he decided to go for a swim in the pool on the terrace of the main house. He changed into his swimming shorts, put on a black t-shirt, grabbed a towel, and walked out of the house. It didn’t take long for him to reach the pool, so he had plenty of time to enjoy the coolness of the water. He swam quite a few lengths before his muscles started aching. Not wanting to exhaust himself before a long workday he reluctantly climbed out of the water, and toweled himself off. Pulling on his t-shirt he started walking back to his house to change, but he ran into Castiel – literally, almost knocking the other man to the ground.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t really see you.” Dean mumbled, hanging his head.

“No problem, I wasn’t really looking either. It seems like we keep butting heads,” Castiel answered, looking quite nonchalantly, even though he was everything but. He let his eyes roam over Dean’s body, truly appreciating the view. “You’re wet,” he observed.

Dean shot him a look that clearly said ‘No shit, Sherlock’.

“Yeah, I just swam a few lengths. People tend to get wet during swimming.” He grinned, but Castiel wasn’t really paying attention to him. A stray droplet of water escaped from Dean’s hair, and started its way down his face, over his forehead, following the ridge of his nose for a while before finally reaching his mouth and disappearing between plump, red lips. Castiel’s gaze followed it intently before refocusing onto Dean’s eyes, only to find them staring at his feet.

“Man, really? Flip-flops?” Dean teased.

“What now? They’re comfy,” Castiel shrugged.

“Nothing, I just… didn’t think you’d be the flip-flop type, you know, with you being a top-notch lawyer and all.”

“You thought I was into Italian leather shoes worth three vintage cars, right?”

“Yeah, I kinda did,” Dean admitted sheepishly, fixing his stare at the ground.

“While I do have a pair of shoes expensive enough to buy an estate on the money I would get if I sold them, I actually got them from my brother Balthazar, and I absolutely hate them. So, I’m glad I could clear up that misunderstanding.” Castiel winked, and Dean chuckled at that.

“Okay, sorry for trying to categorize you without really knowing you,” he said, only half jokingly.

“I’m having a hard time categorizing myself. That’s kinda the reason I’m here,” Castiel answered, suddenly completely serious and even a little sad.

Dean didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded, and then he promptly invited Castiel to meet the horses.

“Eh, Dean, no offense, but I’m not really into horses. You know, up front they bite, in the back they kick, and in the middle they’re just plain uncomfortable.” He declined at first, but one look at Dean’s face told him exactly how sad he made him by saying no. “You know what? I want to meet them.”

Dean’s face lit up immediately.

“Okay, let me change, and then I’ll introduce you to the kids. Meet me at the stable in ten minutes,” he said, and without waiting for an answer, he hurried off, looking like an overgrown, overexcited child. Castiel shook his head, but then he looked around, trying to figure out just which way the stable was.

~.~.~.~.~.~

Dean was walking around in circles in front of the stables. He wasn’t sure what his sudden need to have Castiel near was, but if he was honest to himself, he had to admit that he enjoyed the other man’s company, even though they’d barely spent any time together. When he saw Castiel walking towards him, his heart actually skipped a beat. Flip-flops or not, he looked great in his blue flannel button-down shirt and worn out jeans.

“Hey, I was worried you decided not to come,” he greeted Castiel.

“You know, if you had actually told me where the stable is, I wouldn’t be this late.”

“What? You’re saying that if I told you that it was next to the pen and the practice track, halfway between my house and the main house, in front of the smaller garage, it would have helped?”

“Smartass.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “So, do you want to get this show on the road?” He motioned towards the stable.

“But of course. Please, follow me, my lord.” Dean mock-bowed, and opened the gate to the stable. “This is my empire.” He smiled, waving around. “We have twenty stalls, but only thirteen horses right now. One of our mares is in heat, so our two stallions, Spartacus and Ben Hur are enjoying a little vacation over at the Harvelle’s Farm until she’s done with rutting, it’s just easier that way. Not all horses are actually Chuck’s, five of them belong to different people, but we get paid for feeding them, keeping them safe, and we can even use them for teaching if we want to. The problem is, we don’t want to, because I can’t imagine anyone who would want to learn riding on Mirage, Diamond or the others. Somehow they’re all a little psychotic and more than a little hard to handle, but I love them anyway,” Dean explained, and he did everything to keep himself from laughing when he saw Crystal’s head sticking out of her stall, slowly inching her way towards Castiel. Dean knew what was coming, and he hoped Castiel wouldn’t be angry at him for allowing it to happen. He started counting down from ten in his head, and by the time he reached zero, Crystal’s tongue sneaked out – almost like clockwork –, passing Castiel a sloppy, gooey horse kiss. Only then did he burst out laughing. Castiel made a disgusted sound, and he turned to glare at the mare, who did her best to look completely, utterly innocent, hanging her head and gazing up at Castiel from under her lashes.

“You KNEW this was gonna happen, didn’t you?!” Castiel spun around to look at Dean, quickly adding up one and one in his head, and getting two as a result. “You totally knew, and you didn’t warn me.”

“Sorry, man, but… I can’t deny my girl anything she wants. Right now, she really wanted to kiss you,” Dean deadpanned before starting to laugh again.

“Hilarious.” Castiel rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stay angry for long. “Do you at least have a tissue or something? I think I have horse saliva dripping down my back.

“That’s Crystal’s way of saying hello. She’s really annoying sometimes, especially during longer rides, when you try to sleep at night. She keeps nudging you until you give up trying, and start playing with her. We had her since she was a scrawny little foal, and look at her now, all big and beautiful,” Dean said, pride evident in his voice. Castiel eyed the mare with distrust for a while, but then she whickered, almost as if she was apologizing, and his gaze softened at that.

“Next to her, that’s Diamond. I already mentioned him before, he’s not ours, we’re just taking care of him. He’s a gelding, and I honestly don’t want to know how he’d act if he still had his balls. If you want to see a perfect temper tantrum thrown by a horse, let me know, and I’ll anger him a little for you.” Dean grinned, and despite everything he just said, he reached through the door to pet Diamond’s nose. For a moment the horse seemed to even enjoy the touch, but then he laid back his ears, and Dean pulled his hand back.

“That doesn’t look like he likes you,” Castiel observed.

“Nah, we’re actually quite okay, I’m pretty sure he’s just angry because I’m here, and yet he hasn’t gotten any food so far,” Dean explained, as he turned toward the horse once again. “Hey, big boy, you’ll get your food in five minute tops, please don’t start throwing a hissy fit.” He tried to calm down the horse, and then he took a step to his left, stopping before the door of another stall. “That’s Maniac, Chuck’s favorite girl. She’s pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, pointing at a gray, almost white Arabs horse. Castiel nodded, and after Dean passed the horse a loving pat to her back, they walked over to the next stall. “Meet Mirage. He’s not ours either. He’s a little easier to handle than Diamond, but generally, they have the same attitude. Next to him that’s Beau, probably the loudest horse in the whole universe. He’s able to out-whicker every noise, and if he strains himself, he can be heard in the main house as well. But hey, you were already here yesterday afternoon. You must have heard him.”

“Yes, I did. He really is loud.”

“You see? I’m not kidding.” He smiled, and then pointed at the horse behind the next door. “That beauty over there is Gigette, the best horse to learn riding on. She’s amazing. You are amazing, Gig, aren’t you?” He cooed, running his fingers through her mane. “She was the first horse in the stable. Actually, she’s the only one who’s been here longer than I have, and that ought to tell you something, because this is my 15th year here.”

“Impressive. And you never thought about leaving? Having another job, your own house, a girlfriend or wife, two point five kids, white picket fences?” Castiel asked, so wrapped up in watching Dean and listening to him, that he actually started scratching Gigette’s neck.

“I’m not saying I didn’t, because I did, but in the end, every time I wanted to leave, I realized that I belong here. Maybe this is not the best life, it’s far from perfect; but still, it’s exactly my kind of imperfect, if you know what I mean,” Dean answered, and when Gigette chose the exact moment of him stopping to start mouthing at his neck, it was almost like a subtle reassurance.

“Wow, you’re small,” Castiel blurted out, when he saw the owner of the next stall.

“That’s Scricciolo, Scri for short. His name comes from the Italian language, and it’s used for tiny and cute things. He’s a Shetty - Shetland pony. He’s actually quite big for a pony, almost 41 inches high at the withers. He’s not ours either, but sometimes we use him to teach small kids, and he’s the star of our ‘Doors open’ days.

“He’s kinda cute,” Castiel admitted, smiling down at the tiny horse.

“Yeah, he is. Do you want to watch him for a while, maybe pet him?”

Castiel shook his head, Dean shrugged, and they walked up to the next door.

“Meet Judas, the horse-in-a-poke. Chuck didn’t even see him before he saved his life, and bought him. He was abused before, and he was in a terrible shape when he first arrived here. By the way, he’s the one I was out with, when you drove past us.” Dean added, no edge in his voice. Still, Castiel felt the need to apologize once again, and he even patted Judas’s neck.

Next to his there were two empty stalls, one for Spartacus, and one for Ben Hur. On the other side of the stable there were ten further stalls, but only half of them had horses in them, the first one being a black mare. Dean pointed at her.

“Her name is Pretty, she was given that name because –surprise, surprise – she’s pretty,” he laughed. “She belongs to a young couple, along with Rascasse, the gelding next to her. They were bought as an engagement present for them, by the parents of the husband. If I ever get married, I want a present like this.” He sighed, and turned this face towards the horse in the next stall, just in time to miss the disappointed look on Castiel’s face at the prospect of Dean eventually getting married, as it would mean a female partner at his side. He swallowed, and tried to pay attention to the introduction of the next horse, a dark honey-colored mare with the name Honeyblossom, but he didn’t hear too much of it. By the time Dean started talking about Fiamma, the mare currently in heat, he was more or less able to concentrate on anything else but his disappointment, and when they reached the last horse, a blue roan mare by the name of Dawn, he was sure he could act like nothing happened if Dean looked at him for longer than a second. As soon as he finished talking, Castiel excused himself, and left Dean staring a little dumbfounded after him.

He didn’t have too much time to think about Castiel during the morning, his routine kept both his body and his mind occupied. Somehow everything went slower, everything took more time than usual, so by the time he finished with cleaning the stable, it was almost one in the afternoon, time for his daily phone calls with Sam. Halfway to his house he already heard his landline phone ringing, which surprised him. He reached into his pocket to check his cell phone, and that was when he realized he had turned it off, so it wouldn’t by any chance ring while he was giving Castiel the stable-tour, and he had forgotten to turn it back on after it.

“Oh, shit,” he cursed, and ran towards the house before Sam started calling the police, ambulance, firemen, necromancers et cetera. Out of breath, he reached the phone before it finished ringing. “Hey Sammy.” He panted, holding his side.

“Dean, you sound… tell me you weren’t doing what I think you were doing. Eww,” Sam joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I was running. I was on my way back from the stable when I heard the phone going off. I had to pick it up before you decided to sick the whole law enforcement and all the medical emergency community on me.”

“That was only once, and you didn’t answer your phone for three freaking hours! It’s not my fault that it was because you fell asleep in a meadow, and not because you were lying in a pool of your own blood, murdered somewhere.”

“Yeah, try to explain away your report.”

“I hate you,” Sam groaned, and Dean was sure he was wearing his patented bitch-face.

“No, you really don’t. I’m too charming to be hated. Anyway, how’s the case you’re working on going?” He asked, trying to sound as interested as possible. He wasn’t ready to talk about Castiel just yet, and if Sam asked how he was, there was no way he wouldn’t tell, so he tried to keep Sam away from the topic of his wellbeing.

“It’s going great, we… wait, Dean,” He paused, and Dean knew he was made. “Are you asking about my work because you know I will bore you with details for half an hour, and won’t ask you how you are?”

“No, I…” He began, but it was such an obvious lie, it was painful even for his ears, so he nodded. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Okay then, spill. What’s going on?”

“Does the name Castiel Engelhart sound familiar to you?”

“It does. Actually, he used to work at our office. Well, on the top floor, of course, way above me on the food chain, but still. I heard he quitted a few weeks ago though. Are we talking about the same person here?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure we are. He’s a friend of Becky’s, he’s here at the estate, and yesterday I threatened to hit him.”

“Smooth as always, Dean. I didn’t even know Becky knew him.”

“Neither did I. But what’s worse is that he scared Judas yesterday during our ride-outs, and I managed to give Castiel a rap over the knuckles before I knew who he was, and even though I apologized, and he forgave me, I feel like crap. Then this morning, I invited him to meet my kids. All was going well, he was even starting to get a little touchy-feely with Gig, and then Judas. We were talking, and then all of a sudden he threw a lame excuse my way, and left me without looking back,” Dean rambled.

“That doesn’t sound too good. Dean, please don’t be mad at me, but while that really does sound bad, you’re not really a person who feels bad enough about something like that to actually tell me about it, unless… Unless you feel like you hurt someone you like,” Sam said. In that second Dean began to curse the moment he let his baby brother get such an accurate profile of him.

“No,” he tried to deny weakly, and he was grateful for small mercies, when for once Sam didn’t push. “I have spent barely more than a couple of hours with him, he seems to be a decent guy, but that’s about how much I care.” It was the moment he realized that was flat-out lying. He was interested in Castiel. More than it was usual after barely knowing someone for a day, and certainly more than he felt comfortable with, but he wasn’t ready to admit that even to himself, much less to Sam.

“Okay, Dean, if you say so. Still, you should talk to him though.”

“Yeah, I know, and I will. If you want to talk about that project of yours, now is the time,” he grinned, and this time Sam actually started talking about it.

When they hung up almost an hour later, Dean felt better than he had since he met Castiel. Cheerfully whistling he made himself on his way back to the stables to catch the shipment of fresh hay in time. To his biggest surprise, he didn’t only find the delivery guy waiting for him in front of the building: Castiel was there too, standing around a little farther from the stables, looking a bit awkward. Dean paid the delivery guy for the shipment, quickly they unloaded the truck, and then he turned towards Castiel.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” He inquired, walking up to him.

“Dean,” Castiel greeted him, his bright blue eyes lighting up. “I am truly sorry I had to leave on such a short notice earlier. My brother Balthazar and I always talk on the phone at the same time, every day, and I was late for that time.” Of course, that wasn’t necessarily true, even though he did in fact talk to Balthazar after his hasty escape, but it wasn’t like he could just go and confess how disappointed he felt over Dean apparently being heterosexual.

“Nah, don’t worry, I have a brother myself, and when I’m not answering after the first ring, he goes all mother hen on me when I do answer later.” Dean rolled his eyes, but his voice was full of affection. “Look, I have to carry those bales to the storage room as soon as possible, there’s a slight chance of rain, and I don’t want to take that chance.”

“I can help,” Castiel offered with a shy half-smile on his face.

“That’s really how you want to spend some of your time, carrying around huge-ass hay bales?”

“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do, so… Yes, I guess.”

“If you really want to.” Dean shrugged, and went to get some working gloves for Castiel. Together they finished with the work in half an hour, right when it started raining cats and dogs. Dean grabbed an umbrella, and went to check on the horses, which were huddled together under the roof in the middle of the pen built for times like this. Proudly he grinned at them, and walked back into the stable.

Castiel was sitting cross-legged on the shortest column of hay bales and he lifted his gaze at Dean the moment he pulled the entrance gate closed behind him.

“Are the horses okay?”

“Yeah. Hopefully it won’t get too cold out there, I don’t want to bring them inside just yet. They’re always restless when I do,” Dean answered. “I was planning on taking out Crystal for a ride, but apparently I can forget that now. I think I’m gonna clean the harnesses and stuff instead, I can hardly bring myself to do it anyway, I kinda hate it. It’s boring.” He pouted, and Castiel chuckled at that.

“If you show me how, I can help you with that too,” he offered.

“Okay, who are you? An angel who was sent to save me from doing chores I hate, or what?”

“Maybe,” Castiel shrugged, and gracefully jumped to his feet. “Let’s do it then.”

“You won’t be this cheery once we actually start with it.” Dean shook his head, but Castiel’s apparent enthusiasm was starting to have an effect on him too. “Boring work needs good tunes.” He grinned, pulled out his phone, and after some fiddling with it music filled the storage room.

“You call that good tunes?” Castiel teased.

“Oh, shut your mouth, heathen. Led Zep rules.”

“Yeah-yeah.”

“Man, you’re losing your bonus points so quickly…”

“So, I had bonus points to begin with?” Castiel asked, and the grin following the question made Dean’s breath hitch, and his face turn a little red.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, and failing miserably.

“Good to know.”

“C’mon now, let me show you how to get this shit done.”

They didn’t talk much after that, both of them too busy with cleaning the harnesses and occasionally stealing a glance at each other when the other was not watching. When they were around halfway done with the work, Becky walked in with a cheery smile on her face.

“Hey guys. What’s up?” She asked, plopping down on a hay bale.

“The sky?” Castiel deadpanned, and Dean looked at him questioningly.

“Really? That’s the best you can come up with?” He teased.

“It’s still better than saying nothing, and staring at her with big doe-eyes,” Castiel retorted.

“You two are quite adorable when you bicker like that. I’m glad you’re apparently on good terms with each other.”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” Dean shrugged. “We talked about it, and now we’re okay, aren’t we?” He asked, referring to the incident with Judas and Castiel’s car. Castiel nodded as an answer, and turned his head to look at the saddle in his lap, intent on continuing to clean it.

“I just came to ask Dean if he wanted to join us for dinner again. I was planning on roasting a few steaks over open fire, and I know for a fact you really like it, so, are you coming?” She winked at Dean, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Okay then, see you at seven.” With that, she stood up, and left, softly chuckling on her way out.

“That was a tiny bit weird. Usually, when she’s this cheery, she’s planning something I won’t be this cheery about.”

“You’re preaching to the choir here. I’ve been on the receiving end of her cheeriness quite a few times. I just hope she won’t try to set any of us up with a nice someone we could make such a cute couple with,” Castiel said, imitating Becky on the last few words, and then he shuddered in mock horror. Dean let out an entirely unmanly giggle at that, before getting himself back under control.

“She’s never done that to me, but thanks; now I am seriously dreading that dinner.”

“Dean, can you tell me what time it is? I left my watch in the house.” Castiel asked after a few minutes of silent harness-cleaning, and when Dean looked at his phone to check the time, he jumped up.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry, I’ve gotta run now. I completely forgot I have to give a riding lesson at half past four, and it’s actually four forty. Just leave that shit, I’ll finish it… eventually. See you later,” he gabbled, and hurried out of the storage room. He heard Castiel’s answer faintly, but he couldn’t understand what he was saying.

Ben, his pupil was already waiting for him outside with his mother, petting Gigette, and occasionally Crystal when she managed to push the other mare aside.

“Ben, Lisa, sorry I’m late, I had a few things to take care of. Let me check how muddy the practice track is, we may have to use the arena this time. Kid, feel free to grab the longe, you know where I keep it, and bring Gigette out, okay?”

“Okay, Dean.” Ben nodded, and he darted off towards the stable.


	4. I won't say I'm in love

In the end, the dinner wasn’t half bad. The back terrace was lit by the light of candles, a few torches, and the open fire in the fire pit. The steaks were delicious, and Becky made three kinds of salad to go with them. Soft music was playing in the background from hidden speakers, which even Dean had to admit was nice. It was only the four of them, and they had an immense amount of fun.

“Hey, guys, have we ever told you about how we met?” Becky asked all of a sudden, and Chuck groaned.

“You want to brag again how it was you asking me out on a date?” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not my fault you were too yellow to ask me out.”

“Well, Becky, not for nothing, but you tend be kind of scary sometimes,” Castiel interjected.

“Thanks a lot for the vote of confidence. I am so happy to have you on my side,” she answered, sticking her tongue out.

“You’re welcome. So, how did you two meet?” Castiel asked. Dean leaned back in his chair comfortably, fixing his stare on Castiel. He had already heard the story before, and with Castiel listening intently to Becky, he could watch the other man without being noticed.

“Well, I was a trainee at the Blackhawk Publishing Company, and my job was to read the manuscripts sent to us, throw out the really crappy ones, and divide the remaining ones into genres and stuff, before sending them off to the editors. One day, this poor bastard,” She pointed at Chuck. “came in, and wanted me to take a look at his novel. He looked kinda pathetic, and I was in a mean mood that day, so I told him to sit down, and wait until I call for him.”

“I sat there for four and a half hours before she finally deigned to call for me.” Chuck took over. “I was this close to yelling her head off of her neck, but I really needed someone to take look at my novel, and Blackhawk was the only publisher I haven’t already got a negative answer from, so they were kind of my last chance. So, I gave her my manuscript, she read the first few pages, and…”

“And I started laughing loudly. Poor Chuck, he looked so terrified; he thought I was laughing at how bad his novel was, but I was laughing at something one of his characters said. I meant to tell him, but I couldn’t stop laughing for minutes, and by the time I did, he was already gone.”

“Of course I was gone, you hurt my feelings.”

“Aww, baby, I’m so sorry,” Becky cooed, before continuing. “I read the whole thing till the end that afternoon, and I passed it on to the nicest editor of the mystical horror-genre, because I really wanted to get it published. She refused to work with it, but she said that if I really liked it that much, I should try editing it myself, and maybe we could talk about it then. I did just that, and a month later I was officially the editor of “The woman in white”, since then known as the first part of the Supernatural-saga.”

“We met every Thursday, she was my number one fangirl, my best friend and my editor in one person, but I didn’t dare to ask her out, even though I was pretty sure she liked me as much as I liked her. Then, one day she looked surprisingly seriously at me, and she was like ‘are you going to ask me out someday, or do you want to wait till we both are old and gray?’.”

“I think my exact words were ‘do you want to wait until we both look like a Shtriga in her true form?’.” Becky grinned widely. “Shtriga is a creature from Supernatural, my favorite one by the way. For a moment he just gaped at me, mutely like a fish, but then he gritted out a no.”

“It was really awkward. Becky asked if I wanted to meet her later that day for a coffee, I said yes, and as they say, the rest of the story is already history.”

“That’s an unusual story, but nice. Maybe someday I will have a story like that on my own.” Castiel said, looking straight at his hands that lay folded in his lap.

“I’m sure you will,” Becky said, gently nudging Castiel and making him look up. His gaze met Dean’s, and for a while they stared at each other, until Dean finally turned his head. After a few minutes of pensive silence, they started chatting again.

Around two a.m. Castiel excused himself, and went to bed, leaving Dean alone with Chuck and Becky.

“By the way, Castiel is into guys. Also, he’s utterly and completely single,” Becky announced suddenly, looking pointedly at Dean.

“And why exactly are you sharing that important information with me?” He asked, trying to sound as sarcastic and uninterested as possible. Becky snorted.

“You think I’m blind or what? Every time he’s around, you only have eyes for him.”

“Well, I’d rather stare at him than at your or your boyfriend’s ugly mug,” Dean retorted, and Becky stuck out her tongue at him.

“Thanks so much for the nice compliment,” Chuck interjected, convincingly sounding like an emotionally hurt six years old.

“Oh hon, your mug is so not ugly,” Becky tried to comfort him, before turning her attention back at Dean. “C’mon, you really want to me go all Muses-from-Disney’s-Hercules on your ass? Because – believe it or not – I actually know the lyrics by heart.” She grinned, obviously proud of herself.

“God, please no. No Disney,” Dean groaned, burying his face into his palms.

“Then go, and ask Castiel out for a date,” Becky said, pointing in the general direction of the guest room Castiel was staying in.

“Why are you so intent on fixing us up?”

“You’re lonely, he’s lonely… you deserve a nice guy, he deserves a nice guy… you’re a nice guy, he’s a nice guy…. see what I’m doing there?”

“Yeah, smartass, I see. So, what you’re saying is that we should get together because it’s convenient?”

“Dean, sometimes I think you’re way too good with words to be a simple horse trainer/stable boy. I’m not suggesting that it’s convenient, I’m suggesting that maybe there’s more between you and him than simple friendship, or whatever the hell it is you think you have.”

“You know, she’s actually right,” Chuck piped in.

“Et tu mi fili, Chuck?” Dean rolled his eyes at his friend’s obvious betrayal.

“Yeah, me too.” Chuck mumbled, pulling Becky onto his lap. “Dean, I haven’t seen you this focused on anyone, ever. And I think he likes you too. You should try and give it a chance.”

“There’s nothing to give a chance to,” Dean was close to yelling at this point. He hated how well Chuck and Becky knew him, how he wasn’t able to hide something as mundane as a little crush from them. Becky just rolled her eyes at that, before starting to sing.

“Who do you think you’re kiddin’, he’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden, honey we can see right through you…”

“Ah, Becky, STOP!” Dean yelled. That was too much for him to handle. “Okay, I give up. You win. You’re right, I may have a crush on Cas. A crush, not more, not less. Don’t fantasize about our earth shattering love.” Yet, Dean added in his head. “Look, I’ve barely known him for a few days now. Also, he’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to seem overeager, rush into the house and take the door with me, you know. I will act on it, when I feel like it’s the right time to do so, and Becky, I swear to God, if you mention any of this to him, I’ll…”

“Skin me alive, I know.” Becky finished his sentence, sounding bored to death. “I won’t say a word to him, I promise.” She sighed, and quickly stood up to hug Dean. “I’m gonna be so happy when you two finally get your shit together, man up, and become a couple.”

“Becky, don’t go all fangirl on us, please,” Dean groaned, but deep down he was glad that Becky was so sure of Castiel and him eventually ending up as a couple.

“I’m just sayin’.” She answered, trying to look innocent. “I am kinda beat, I think I’m going to just leave this mess, and clean it up in the morning; I really want to go to bed. It’s not like someone would want to steal our used plates anyway. Chuck, sweetie, please don’t forget to put out the fire and the torches this time, I’d rather not have a near-fire again, okay?”

“That was only one time, and nothing happened!” Chuck expressed his indignation at Becky’s accusation.

“I know, but I’m still worried. Good night, guys, see you tomorrow.” She waved at them, and disappeared into the house. Chuck’s gaze followed her.

“She’s amazing,” He mumbled, more to himself than to Dean.

“She is. She’s also annoying, and nerdy. Just like you, thus the perfect significant other for you.”

“Thanks for that description. Really, I’m touched.” Chuck faked wiping a tear from his left eye. “But now that you mentioned that significant other thing… I’m kinda flirting with the idea of proposing to her, I’m just not sure how she’d react to that.”

“I am sure she’d be happy, and she’d say yes before you finished the question, but you’re asking for a relationship advice from me? You know my longest relationship with a human being lasted for a month, right?”

“I know… I’ll think a little more about this. Hey, do you want to help me clean up? Becky would appreciate if I did it for her.”

“Do I look like a maid to you?” Dean inquired dryly, but a few seconds later he stood up to help.

~.~.~.~.~.~

“Holy shit, Castiel! Next time warn a guy before you sneak up on him, and scare him halfway to death!” Dean exclaimed. He was busy cleaning the stables when suddenly someone touched his shoulder from behind.

“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming in. The gate was shrieking quite loudly when moved, I was sure you noticed that. My bad,” Castiel apologized, leaning against the wall.

“Nah, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Tell me one thing though: How on Earth can you walk around without a sound in flip-flops?” He asked, nodding towards Castiel’s feet.

“I don’t think I am really as silent as you think I am. I was a little bored, and I thought I’d check up on you, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course I don’t. I have to finish this, but after that I’m free for a few hours. Do you have any plans?”

“Not really, but I think I’d like to see a little more of the countryside.”

“Has Chuck or Becky told you anything about the old wash-house?”

“They haven’t. Why?” Castiel asked interestedly, and Dean began talking.

“It’s kind of a local… myth. It’s actually a water wheel with an added house, built on a creek nearby, which feeds a little pond not very far from the wash-house. It’s not a pretty sight, really creepy if you ask me. Underneath it, there’s a cave, the Bone Chamber. It’s where rich people were put to sleep their last sleep, but not in coffins, they are fastened to the walls somehow. It looks like as if they’re just standing around there, fully clothed and all. The gases down there kept the corpses in pretty good shape, their clothes are still colorful, shoes shiny, but their hair and skin is de-colored. We could check it out, if you want to, it’s a twenty minutes walk.”

“I am not sure I want to check out something like that.”

“It’s cool though. Like I said, a little creepy, but it’s also exciting.”

“Okay, we can go,” Castiel shrugged, and Dean threw down the pitchfork he was holding in his hand.

“Let’s go then, I will finish this later. You should change shoes though; flip-flops are not the best choice for a walk like that.”

They arrived at the old wash-house half an hour later, with torches and flashlights in their hands. Castiel eyed the half-rock, half-wood building with obvious distrust. It was indeed creepy, but as Dean said, it was also exciting at the same time. The wash-house was ramshackle, dark, and it reeked of sulfur.

“We won’t be able to stay down there for too long, but we’ll have enough time to take a good look around,” Dean explained, and he opened the rotting wooden door, which shrieked loudly on its rusty hinges. “The legend has it that this wash-house once belonged to an old and ugly witch. No one knew her Christian name, only her family name, Kaiser. And they called her the Awful One. According to the myth, she wore black clothes, her hair was unkempt and greasy, she was warty, her eyes small like a rat’s… well, all in all, half of the neighborhood had nightmares featuring her, she was like an iron-nosed witch in a fairytale. The room we’re now standing in was her kitchen. The actual wash-house is at the other end of the building.”

The room was in fact clearly an old kitchen. There was an open fireplace, with dirty, black pots scattered all over it. Next to it, there was a table, fully covered with shards of broken plates. Upturned chairs were lying around it. At the end of the room, there was another door, and it was probably held in its proper place by the Holy Spirit, because Castiel was sure that it wasn’t the hinges. Dean poked at a glass jar on the shelf playfully, disturbing a huge spider’s dream in the process.

“Let’s go to the next room,” he said, walking towards the door. Castiel followed him, careful not to touch anything. “There was a girl named Gratia Lazan, who allegedly worked at the very same estate Chuck owns now, and one day she heard screaming from the wash-house,” Dean continued the story. “She came in to check it out, and she met the Awful One. She asked the witch about the screams, but of course she denied it was a human being yelling for the sheriff, and she managed to lock Gratia into the Bone Chamber.”

The room they arrived in once functioned as a bedroom, that much was sure, as there was a bed in the middle, which had clothes and a few small bones strewn all over it. Castiel shivered, and Dean looked worriedly at him.

“Man, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am, I just felt like something was crawling on my arm.”

“There’s nothing there,” Dean reassured him, and without thinking, he grabbed Castiel’s hand to hold it in his. “That’s the trap door to the Bone Chamber.” He pointed at a piece of rope on the floor, and when Castiel nodded, he pulled at it, opening the door. “Light the torches, and then we can go,” he instructed, and with the burning torches they descended into the dark cellar. When both of them safely reached the ground, Dean continued talking.” Down here, Gratia found two male corpses, and a man, who was still alive, but just barely. The Awful One thought that the lack of air and the presence of different gases would kill Gratia quickly, but she was too eager to check on her victim. What she saw when she came down was totally not what she expected. The girl was still on her feet, and she was holding a rusty sword. The witch wanted to curse the girl, but the sword began glowing, and after that it looked like it was new. In the end, the Awful One was killed, and the girl and the man she found both survived. One of the bodies here is actually holding a sword, pretty much like the one in the story, and the one holding it is a woman. I’ll show you in a second.”

The air in the chamber was heavy with gases and the smell of old clothes. Right next to the ladder, there was a corpse in a cardinal’s get-up, the cloak still bright crimson, the white patterns on it a little bluish, and the golden yarn they were sewn onto the mantle were glistening in the light of the torches. All the way to the end of the very long chamber, there were bodies; some of them looked like they were smiling, and some of them looked surprisingly alive, even with their greenish-yellowish skin. To Castiel’s surprise, one of the women had a necklace that was clearly made of gold still around her neck.

“How come this chamber was never robbed?” He asked, pointing at the jewelry.

“I don’t know. People around here are really superstitious. They don’t really like this place, that’s probably why. And the existence of the Bone Chamber is not known outside the village and the estates surrounding it, so… but it is still a little baffling. I mean, that necklace alone must be worth a smaller house. I’m not saying I wouldn’t like to have that amount of money, but stealing from a corpse? So not cool. And I’m probably not the only one thinking that. Now, we don’t have much time, the torches are already flickering, so we’ll have to leave soon,” Dean explained, and he started pulling Castiel towards the back of the chamber. “So, this is the woman I was talking about. Look at that sword. It’s beautiful, too bad it’s so rusty.”

“It is indeed beautiful.” Castiel agreed, admiring the careful handiwork on the weapon. He was strangely enchanted by the atmosphere of the Bone Chamber. He tried to imagine the life story of the people bound to rest in that weird cemetery, different scenarios playing in his head. The last flicker of his torch snapped him out of his reverie.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dean suggested, and Castiel nodded, letting the other man pull him towards the exit. They still held hands, but when they stepped outside the house, Dean let go of him, and Castiel didn’t reach out to reinstate the contact.

“We’ll check out the other half of the building some time later, now I need some sunlight. Can we go to the pond you mentioned earlier?”

“Of course,” Dean nodded, leading the way. The walk didn’t last longer than five minutes, and the sight of the tiny pond filled Castiel with childlike joy. He toed off his shoes while hurrying towards the shore, and by the time Dean caught up with him, Castiel was already ankle-deep in the water, chuckling at the cool touch of it.

“This is great. Better than any fancy swimming pool,” Castiel announced with a wide smile on his face. He acted like he was just discovering the world, or at least re-discovering it after forgetting everything, and the more Dean thought about that, the truer it seemed to be. He sank down onto the bright green grass, and stared at Castiel, trying to drink in his sight. The sun was shining from behind him, covering him with its ethereal light, and in that moment Dean couldn’t help but marvel at his beauty. His affection towards Castiel was completely baffling him, he wasn’t used to falling for people after such a short time, but apparently Castiel was the exception proving the rule. Dean sighed, and after some thinking the stepped out of his boots, and walked into the water, standing next to Castiel. The other man lifted his head, and for what seemed like an eternity, they looked into each other’s eyes, almost as if they were trying to decipher the secrets there. In the end it was Dean who broke the eye-contact, he wasn’t able to stand the heat of Castiel’s gaze any longer. He stepped out of the water, and sat down so that only his feet reached it.

“How long are you staying?” He asked, poking the wet sand under his soles with his toes.

“I’m not sure yet. Chuck said I can stay as long as I want, and I like it here. It’s quiet and beautiful. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this as much as I do,” Castiel answered, sitting down next to Dean. “I always thought I was a big city boy. It seems like I was wrong about that. It’s no surprise, I’ve been wrong about a lot of things in my life,” he muttered absentmindedly after a long pause Dean waited silently for him to continue, but instead, he stood up, shoes still in his hands. “I kept you from your work long enough now. We should return to the estate.”

Dean pulled on his boots, and groaned as he tried to stand up. Before he knew what was happening, Castiel grabbed his arm, and pulled him to his feet. The touch sent a shiver through Dean’s body, and he didn’t want Castiel to let go of him. The walk back to the estate was silent, but both of them felt completely comfortable with it.

“That was nice.” Castiel said when they reached the stable.

“Yeah, it was.” Dean agreed. “Hey, I almost forgot to ask you. Will you come to the Harvelle’s masquerade next weekend? It’s the best party of the summer, free food and booze.”

“This is the first time I’ve heard about it. I don’t think that I’ll go though, I don’t have suitable attire for an event like that.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we can figure something out,” they heard Becky’s voice from behind them. “I was just looking for Castiel to invite him.”

“Becks, are you stalking us?” Dean joked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yes, clearly I have nothing better to do than following you both around. I just took a pause from editing. I really, really love Kresley Cole’s work, but I can’t take more than fifty pages at a time. Oh, apropos work, Chuck wants to talk to you, Dean.”

“Tell him I’m in the stable. Or, you know what? Tell him I’m anywhere else, but not in the stable. I have a faint idea what he wants to talk about, and I’m so not sure I want to talk about that.”

“That’s his work, Dean. He seemed to be pretty excited, so I don’t think it will be long till he comes looking for you himself.”

“Is this about the…” Castiel began, but Becky poked him into the ribs. “Ouch.” He glared at the girl, but kept his mouth shut.

“Okay then, Weirdy McWeirdertons.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows, and left to finish his work. Five minutes had barely passed before he heard the shriek of the entrance gate.

“Hey, Dean!” Chuck called out, entering the stable.

“Chuck, I’m in Gigette’s stall in the back. What’s so urgent?” Dean hollered back, without pausing in his work, shoveling the used hay into a wheelbarrow.

“I just want to ask you something, I’ll be there in a sec,” Chuck answered. He walked up to the door of the stall the other man was working in. “So, I know you hate it when I bother you with my novel…” he began, but Dean cut him short.

“Of course I hate it, because no matter what I say, if I say yes or no, you’ll still do what you wanted to originally do, so, why do you even bother asking? I can clearly remember saying no when you asked if you should send novel-Dean literally to hell, and yet he ended up there…”

“Because it would’ve sucked if someone or something magically saved him in the last minute!” Chuck exclaimed in defense of his decision.

“Let me reiterate then: Why do you even bother asking?” Dean said, deliberately throwing a forkful of used hay dangerously close to Chuck’s shoes.

“I just want to have your opinion on the matter.”

“Yeah, so you have something you can completely ignore, right? Remind me again, why did we even agree to use my and Sam’s names and base the characters of your novels on us?”

“I think I kinda blackmailed you into it.” Chuck actually had the decency to look a little ashamed at that.

“Oh, so now you admit that it was blackmailing? For years now, you kept denying it vehemently, but now the cat’s out of the bag.” Dean tried to sound at least a little angry, but he didn’t quite manage it.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I would be lying because, actually, I’m not sorry.” Chuck grinned. “Anyway, I just wanted to update you a little on my plans for the next few novels.”

“You mean, you want to gloat what a genius you are, and expect me to go all fangirl on your ass,” Dean teased.

“Only if you want to, I’m not sure I want to hear you hyperventilate and give out certain high-pitched noises, or see you faint, but hey, I don’t want to poop on your party.”

“I swear you sound like a freaking teenage girl sometimes,” Dean mumbled, shaking his head. “If you want to tell me something, do it quickly, I don’t have all day. You know, someone actually has to work here.”

“Okay.” Chuck almost glowed. “So, I think an angel will grip your alter ego tight and raise him from Perdition, because God has work for him. Lilith wants to break sixty-six seals to free Lucifer from Hell, and it will be the Winchesters’ job to stop her.”

“An angel,” Dean said disbelievingly.

“What? It only makes sense to make the good guys appear too… or, the not-so-bad guys. Most of the angels will be dicks with wings though, except that first one. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’ll make him a good guy. Also, I thought I’d base his name on Castiel, since it’s an angel’s name and all.”

“Chuck, are you sure you’re a successful writer, and not some delusional amateur fanficcer? Because my friend, you certainly sound like one right now.”

“Maybe. Or I am just lucky enough to be successful with my amateur fanfics,” Chuck retorted.

“Have you asked Castiel about this?”

“Yes, I did. He was quite excited about it, but he made me promise I’d ask for your opinion about the matter too.” Chuck looked down at the floor, poking at the stall door with the toe of his shoe.

“Well, if he’s okay with it, then I am too. It’s not like it would matter if I said no anyway…” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go, and cook up a kick-ass entrance scene for Castiel’s alter ego.”

“You do that,” Dean muttered, and he began pushing the wheelbarrow toward the side exit leading to the compost heap. “Hey, Chuck?” He called after his boss.

“Yes, Dean?”

“I was thinking about restoring that garden pond between the pen and the practice track. Soon enough, Ben won’t need me to teach him anymore, and unless we’ll have a new client by then, I’ll have a lot more free time.”

“Oh, it’s not necessary. I can call someone to do it, if you want to have it fixed.”

“Chuck, I’m not asking because I want to have it fixed, but because I want to fix it myself.”

“If you want to…” He shrugged. “Just let me know what you need, and I’ll order it for you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”


	5. Carnival of rust

In the next few days Dean fell into a whole new routine, welcoming and integrating Castiel into his life. They spent most of the afternoons together, sometimes the evenings too. Mostly they were accompanied by Chuck and Becky, but other times it was just the two of them, talking, having fun, flirting. Time was passing quite quickly and before they knew it, it was the day of the Harvelle’s Annual Masquerade. Castiel wasn’t really in the mood for an event like that but Dean made him promise he’d go, so he did. Dean and Becky had to leave a little earlier, so it was just Chuck and him.

They arrived a few minutes after six at the Harvelle Estate and before they went through the front gate, they put on their masks. Castiel’s was a sky blue with some sparkly silver and darker blue decoration on it. At first he found it totally uncomfortable but after a few minutes he got used to it. Also, when he had tried his outfit on before the party, Dean had said it looked great with the gray suit, blue shirt and gray, almost silvery tie he wore, and that was a big plus point. They chose his mask together but he hadn’t seen Dean’s yet. Chuck wore a simple white lace half-face mask with his black tuxedo-white shirt combo.

Almost immediately they were welcomed by an elderly couple, and a young blonde woman, also wearing masks. Chuck smiled widely as he hugged the man, and kissed the women’s cheeks, trying not to knock the masks out of place.

“Castiel, I’m sorry for the unusual introduction, but this is a masquerade, and taking the masks off would be breaking the rules, so… this is the Harvelle family, Bobby, Ellen, and their daughter Joanna. And this is Castiel Engelhart, a friend of Becky’s,” he introduced them. Firm handshakes and awkward, nice-to-meet-you hugs were shared, before another group of guests arrived, and the Harvelle’s had to go and greet them.

“This is quite a turnout,” Castiel observed looking around.

“It’s usually like that. This is a popular event, I’d even go as far as to say the most popular one in this neighborhood, and soon you’ll get to see why. Dean hasn’t filled you in, has he?”

“I don’t think so,” Castiel shrugged as he let Chuck drag him along. They walked for a few minutes before arriving at the estate’s huge back yard, filled with benches and tables. Some of them had plates full of food on them, some had glasses and bottled drinks scattered on them. In the middle of the meadow, there was an enormous stage, and some people were already gazing at it excitedly from behind their masks. Outdoor lights were placed all over the yard, along with quite a few speakers.

“Come on, we need to find a good place to sit.” Chuck urged.

“Why? What’ll happen here?” Castiel asked.

“Oh, you’ll see, and you’ll like it. Now come on, let’s get some food, and then we can sit. We have to wait quite a bit for the magic to happen, but at least we’ll be able to watch it from good seats,” Chuck rambled.

They spent half an hour watching the arriving people, who slowly filled the remaining seats.

“Where is Dean? And Becky?” Castiel inquired, glancing around nervously, trying to find them.

‘They will be here soon. Don’t worry,” Chuck answered with a grin. A few seconds later Bobby and Ellen appeared on the stage, holding microphones.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” Bobby began.

“This is our annual masquerade, and we are truly happy that you all decided to grace the event with your presence,” Ellen took over, smiling at her husband. “As usual, we will begin with a little glance at the past, before focusing on the future, and a hopefully amazing ball.”

“Let’s hear some cheers for our little acting group!” Bobby said, and the crowd began clapping loudly. The couple left the stage, and a young woman entered it, in a beautiful dress. She wasn’t wearing a mask, and Castiel was surprised to see that it was Becky, but she looked different, almost ethereal. A male’s voice sounded from somewhere, talking about a girl named Abigail Cory, whose only fault was to be born as a woman, disappointing her father.

Becky sat down on a chair, and looking at her hands folded in her lap, she began to talk softly.

“All I did wrong was falling in love with someone I wasn’t supposed to. But please, let me start from the beginning, if you don’t mind listening to me. We have a story to tell, a story about love, hate, sadness and happiness. It is a story wherein good people win their fights, and bad people get punished.” With that, she stood up and left. A little girl with long blonde locks took her place on the stage, playing happily with a real pony, which Castiel recognized as Scricciolo. Abigail’s happiness lasted only until Bobby appeared, obviously in the role of the little girl’s father. A lot of people were participating in the scenes, sometimes the stage was so full that Castiel was afraid the thick wooden boards would break. For every other scene a new Abigail came, until Becky re-entered the stage, with a man who was playing her teacher. Soon, the sound of hooves was to be heard, and the crowd gasped when a horse jumped up onto the stage, with a man in the saddle. Castiel didn’t even have to look at his face to know it was Dean.

“Our best Arnod Hilard, ever. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d think he and Becky are a couple in real life,” Chuck whispered to Castiel, obviously proud of his girlfriend and best friend. He was right to be proud, because the way Dean and Becky flirted was a little too real, and it made Castiel more than a little jealous. But soon it was all forgotten, because the show pulled him in. The story itself wasn’t anything special, or surprisingly fresh, but the performance of the people acting in it was great, and it was so full of emotions that the crowd kept gasping, laughing, crying, and cheering at the appropriate times.

In the end, Arnod and Abigail got married, and rode off to live happily ever after, getting a standing ovation from the audience. Joanna introduced the actors, one by one. Dean and Becky were the last ones, and they got the loudest applause. Joanna gave a microphone to Dean, and he smiled at her.

“Thank you, Jo, and thank you people for being here. I’m really glad you liked our play. Later tonight, we will have a little surprise for you, so please, don’t leave before that. We promise it will be worth the missed sleep. Until then, enjoy the ball.”

After another round of applause they disappeared behind the stage, and a few minutes later they emerged together, Becky in a short green cocktail dress with a feathered lace mask in matching colors, and Dean in a black tuxedo with a red shirt and black tie, a beautiful black metal mask on his face. It looked more like henna lines painted onto his sunkissed skin than a mask, with its delicate lines and intricate patterns. Castiel swallowed loudly, trying to get himself back under control.

When Becky spotted them, she began running towards them, and Chuck stood up to welcome his overeager girlfriend in a tight hug.

“You were amazing.” Chuck whispered, and holding hands they wandered off somewhere, leaving Dean and Castiel alone.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Castiel said as he sipped at his glass of wine.

“I know. I was trying to surprise you with it. Did you like it?”

“Yes, I did. It was a pleasure. But how did you get Judas to be this calm in front of this crowd? You said he was afraid of strangers.”

“Yeah, I know, I thought so too. I was pretty sure he was. But yesterday I rode him to the rehearsal, and he seemed completely okay with all those people around him, so… I gave it a try.” Dean shrugged, and sat down next to Castiel. “I think he was so excited about jumping that he forgot to freak out because of the audience.”

“You look great,” Castiel blurted out, and when he realized what he had done, he hid his face behind his glass.

“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself, but I guess half of the ladyship here has already told you that,” Dean grinned.

“No, not really.”

“Their loss then. Do you want to get some more wine? Or maybe some food? I think I’m going to get some, I’m starving.”

“Dean, when are you not starving?” Castiel joked, and he earned a gentle punch to his shoulder for that.

“You’re mean,” Dean pouted. “You want something then?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

Dean nodded and started walking towards the tables full of food. Castiel wasn’t alone for more than half a minute before someone sat down next to him.

“Castiel, right?” Jo asked, smiling widely at him.

“Yes, you’re correct, Joanna.”

“Please, call me Jo. So, are you having fun? You seem to be a little lonely,” she said, and at that moment it became clear to Castiel that she was trying to figure out a way to get into his pants.

“I’m having just the right amount of fun, thank you for your concern though. I am only alone for the moment, just until Dean gets back with his food.” Castiel answered reservedly, but Jo seemed not to notice his formality, because she actually tried to kick her flirting up a notch, and ran her hand over Castiel’s arm.

Jealousy filled Dean’s veins when he saw Jo pawing at Castiel, but he knew he had no right to be jealous, because he was too big of a coward to ask Castiel out and risk an eventual rejection, which meant that Castiel was free to let whoever he wanted to touch him. He forced a smile onto his face, and walked back to the table. His breathing got a little easier, when he saw Castiel gazing up at him like a drowning man at the last straw.

“Hey, Jo,” Dean looked at her, doing his best to refrain himself from telling her to fuck off.

“Dean.” She nodded coolly, and after a minute of awkward silence she excused herself.

“That was… close.” Castiel sighed. “Taking no for an answer certainly doesn’t seem to be her forte.”

“No, it’s not. But don’t worry, the next time you see her, she’s gonna be polite, and friendly.”

“Assuming there will be a next time,” Castiel muttered, looking up at Dean again. “Dean, are you that hungry?” He grinned, pointing at the two plates in Dean’s hand.

“No. I know you said, you’re not hungry, but I thought I’d bring some food for you too, before it’s all gone.” He shrugged, and set one of the plates down in front of Castiel before sitting down.

 

“Thanks,” Castiel answered, and when Dean started eating, he followed his example silently.

Chuck and Becky watched their interactions from afar.

“I’m pretty sure I already won our little bet,” the girl announced after some thinking.

“What?”

“Look at them, Chuck. They are a couple. They just… haven’t realized it yet.”

“There could be some truth in what you just said.” Chuck admitted, because Dean and Castiel promptly proved Becky’s point. They lifted their heads, looking up at the exact same time, and after staring at each other for the better half of a minute they turned their looks back at their plates, not more than a second apart.

The rest of the evening passed quite quickly, with soft music playing, couples dancing, people having fun, and soon it was time for a second performance by the amateur actors of the community. Becky didn’t participate this time, and Dean only had a minor role to play, so he watched most of the show from his seat next to Castiel, and left only a minute before he was needed on the stage for the last scene. After it ended, the guests started leaving, one by one, and soon the yard was almost empty. Dean and Castiel walked home a little earlier, while Chuck and Becky stayed to have a few late-night-early-morning drinks with Ellen and Bobby.


	6. More than I deserve (?)

After the masquerade their days became a little calmer, the after-event excitement of the ball slowly fading away. During the weekend, Fiamma stopped rutting, so Dean brought Ben Hur and Spartacus back to the stables. They were the biggest horses Castiel had ever seen. It wasn’t like he had seen a lot of them but when he mentioned his observations to Dean, he was reassured that they were in fact huge.

With each passing day, Dean and Castiel spent more and more time together. The only times Castiel wasn’t near Dean was when he had horses around him. Castiel was still a little intimidated by them, but he was slowly getting used to them, especially because Dean kept nagging him to be friendlier with the hoofed beasts, and he even offered free riding lessons to him. Every time Dean did that, he had so much hope in his eyes, that it got harder and harder to say no, until one day Castiel finally gave in.

“Okay, let’s do it,” he said, rolling his eyes. Dean’s answering smile was so bright and genuine; Castiel had to forcibly stop himself from grabbing him and kissing him senseless.

“We can start in an hour, if it’s okay with you. Jeans and sport shoes will do for now, we can get you proper gear later if you start getting the hang of it, and enjoying it, which I’m sure you will.”

Castiel nodded hesitantly, and he walked off to prepare himself for what was about to come. Almost an hour later he was no calmer, and he cursed himself for saying yes in the first place, but he decided not to disappoint Dean by canceling, so he showed up for his first horse-riding lesson despite his nerves.

“So, you ready?” Dean asked, looking at Castiel, who seemed to be everything but ready.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Castiel’s voice made his nervousness obvious. Usually it was deep and gravelly, but in that moment it was like a scared foal’s whinny: soft, and high-pitched.

“Come on, you spent two and a half weeks here on a horse ranch. You’re intending to stay at least three more, and you haven’t actually been near the horses for more than those five minutes when I introduced them to you.”

“I’m not that into horses.”

“I know… Up front they bite, in the back they kick, and in the middle they’re merely uncomfortable, right?’ Dean joked, quoting Castiel from the day he first met them.

“Exactly,” Castiel grinned shyly, eyeing the horse tied to the pole with so much uncertainty in his eyes that Dean almost gave up his idea of teaching Castiel how to ride a horse.

“I’m gonna prove it to you that you’re generally wrong there. Come on, do you trust me?” Dean flashed a teasing smile at Castiel, trying to use the least psychotic one he had.

“It’s the beast I don’t trust.”

“Gigette’s hardly a beast. Here, hold these,” Dean said, thrusting three apples into Castiel’s hand, before clicking his tongue. Gigette raised her head, and for a moment she actually grinned at Dean, before trotting as close to them as the rope on her bridle let her. “Castiel, you met Gigette before. She’s the oldest, most experienced horse in our stable. Also, she’s the one we use with kids who want to ride a horse and she hasn’t ever caused an accident. Give me back those apples, and hold out your hand under her nose, let her sniff it.”

“Okay…” Castiel said, and – although a little reluctantly – he held his hand out. It didn’t take more than a second for Gigette to sniff at it before she started licking at it. For a moment Castiel looked like he was going to pass out, but a few seconds later he gave a little laugh. “It tickles.”

“She can smell the apples on your hand. Here’s an apple, put it on your palm, and hold it out for her. Don’t worry, she’s not gonna bite you, I raised her better than that,” Dean said with a grin, and Castiel did as he was told. Gigette looked questioningly at Dean, and she only took the offered fruit after he nodded. She munched happily on the apple, and after she was finished with it, she kept licking the juice of it off of Castiel’s hand. “Okay, now try petting her nose. She’ll let you do that now.”

“Yeah, because I bribed her with apples,” Castiel said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s just a precaution, she’d probably let you anyway. Horses are in a lot of regards just like dogs. They can feel the intention of us; they know whether or not we want to hurt them. And you don’t want to hurt her, right? So, no worries.”

“Okay, but if she bites my hand off, you’re so gonna pay my hospital bills.”

“You know what? If she does, I will. Okay?” Dean grinned, and patted Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel took a deep breath, and touched Gigette’s nose. He let out a small yelp when the horse actually took a step closer to him, and leaned into his touch.

“Wow. She feels so nice… warm, and soft,” he whispered with the littlest hint of awe in his eyes.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Dean felt his smile grow wider and wider. “Now try sliding your hand up on her muzzle. If she lets you touch her between her eyes, you’re good to go. Horses have a blind spot in front of their foreheads, which means, they can’t see if something is there or not. They don’t see your hand under their noses either, but they can smell you, so they know you’re there,” he explained, but he wasn’t sure Castiel actually heard any of that, he was too busy caressing Gigette’s forehead and nose. She whickered, and pushed her head into the touch, making Castiel smile.

“Can I give her another apple?” He asked, a child’s innocent delight on his face.

“Of course, that’s why I brought more than one. But the last one is for after the lesson.”

While Castiel fed the apple to Gigette, Dean went to get a helmet for him and a saddle for her. By the time he got back, Castiel was hugging the horse’s neck, and Gigette was lovingly mouthing at his shoulder.

“That’s what I call love at first sniff.” Dean grinned, and with quick movements he harnessed the horse. “Okay, I think you’ll be good to go with the same stirrup-length I go with… You’ll have to learn how to do that later, but for now you’ll get to have just the enjoyable parts.” He told Castiel, giving him the helmet.

“Do I really have to wear that?”

“Yes. While I don’t think anything is gonna go wrong with you and Gigette, better safe than sorry. So, put it on.”

Castiel pouted for a moment, but he glanced at Gigette, and decided to put the hat on anyway.

“I know, I look ridiculous.”

“Not necessarily the word I’d use,” Dean answered, and he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from telling Castiel how non-ridiculous he actually looked. “Come on, let’s get you onto Gigette’s back.” That seemed to push Castiel over his distress caused by the helmet, and he smiled at Dean.

“Show me how.”

“Look at that, all of a sudden you’re in a hurry. Okay, watch. You put your hands here and here.” He pointed to the horse’s neck with one hand and to the edge of the saddle with the other. “You place your left foot into the stirrup, I’ll give you a little push. You just hold on, and try to swing your leg over her back.”

“That doesn’t sound too complicated,” Castiel chuckled, and did as he was told. Dean felt a little hot when he leaned down to give him a push, he hadn’t thought about how close that action would get him to Castiel’s backside, but he managed to keep himself from touching in inappropriate places, even though he desperately wanted to. He swallowed, and tried to get the blush he was no doubt sporting back under control. He smiled up at Castiel, who looked mighty proud sitting in the saddle.

“Okay, hold onto the saddlebow, we’re on the move!” Dean announced, and taking the reins into his hands, slowly he led Gigette down to the small practice track. He kept glancing back at Castiel, who looked a little spooked now that he was holding onto the saddlebow for dear life. “Castiel, I know that it is a little scary that she’s moving under you, but man, for God’s sake, don’t look THAT scared, you’re safe up there.”

“Easy to say, you’re on the ground!” Castiel answered, his voice a little panicked, but he seemed to try to pull himself together. When they reached the track, Dean stopped the horse, and turned his attention onto Castiel.

“Now I’m gonna teach you how to sit on a horse, ‘cause what you’re doing now is about as enthralling and right, as a drunk man’s sprawl on a bar stool. First of all, sit straight. You’re not the Hunchback of Notre Dame, are you? Then don’t sit like you were, you’re too good-looking to be Quasimodo anyway,” he grinned, and Castiel immediately straightened his spine. “Okay, that looks better, but if you can, try to push your shoulders back a little too. That’s it. The only way you can actually stay on the horse is if you hold on with your legs… well, your thighs and knees, to be exact. Wait, it looks like the stirrup is way too low for you, let me just quickly adjust that,” he said, and without thinking, he grabbed Castiel’s ankle, pulling his foot out of the stirrup. “Pull up your leg a little, please.”

When Castiel didn’t react, Dean put his hand onto the other man’s thigh, and pushed it up a little, using his other hand to adjust the strap that held the stirrup in place. At his touch Castiel let out a small chuckle, but Dean didn’t notice. He pushed Castiel’s foot back into the stirrup, and took two steps back to see if it was better or worse.

“Hey, man. What did I just say about not being Quasimodo?” He scolded Castiel, who had hunched over again while Dean was busy. “Should I get a wooden board and tie it onto your back to keep it straight?” he joked. Castiel shot him a clearly disapproving look, and even Gigette snorted. “Okay, no wooden board then. Let me adjust the other strap too, and you’re good to go,” Dean said, and a few seconds later he was ready. Quickly, he ran his hands over Castiel’s thighs to make sure he was holding on, before he clicked with his tongue, and slowly, Gigette started walking.

“Dean, I…” Castiel began, once again sounding a little panicked.

“Calm down. Hold onto her with your legs. Push your heels down, so that your toes point towards the sky. Try to angle your feet so that the inner rim of your soles is a little higher than the outer, that will make your work easier if you have to nudge her. Your knees and thighs should be connected to the horse at any given time, that’s how you’ll keep yourself on their back, by holding onto them tight.”

“How am I supposed to remember all that?!” Castiel asked, voice rising higher than ever. Gigette was still walking, round after round, not really caring about her rider’s distress.

“So far you’re doing just fine, and if you would stop worrying, you would do it perfectly. Try to enjoy it.”

“Dean, in case you didn’t notice, I have a huge beast between my legs and…” Castiel began to complain, but then he realized what he just said, and blushed. Dean chuckled, and stopped Gigette.

“Would you feel any safer if I sit behind you for a while?” Dean asked. He was sure that he wouldn’t make this offer to anyone else, but he just couldn’t stand the scared look Castiel had on his face the whole time. For a second he contemplated telling him to get off the horse and leave it be, but somehow he was sure Castiel would love riding if he knew how to.

After some thinking Castiel nodded, and in the next moment he found himself with his back pressed tightly against Dean’s chest.

“Better?” Dean inquired. His mouth was so close to Castiel’s ear that his breath tickled him, making him shiver a little.

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. Reach forward, and grab the reins, please.” Castiel did, as he was asked. Once he had them securely in his hands, Dean clicked his tongue again, and Gigette started walking, a little quicker than before. “Castiel, calm down. Let the rein hang a little loose, but not too much, you may have to hold her back eventually. Hold it with both hands, between the index and middle fingers, this way it can slide freely if you have to pull it tighter, or let it looser,” Dean explained, and he reached forward, taking Castiel’s right hand, gently forcing it into the right position, before doing the same to his left hand, his fingers lingering only a little longer than necessary. “Perfect,” he whispered, and then without warning, he put his arms around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him a little upwards, and a little more towards him. Castiel’s mouth went dry from the sudden touch, Dean’s proximity was starting to make him really dizzy, but he was too surprised to do anything, so he just stayed in the position Dean held him in.

“I told you to sit straight. It makes holding onto the horse easier. Less work for your thigh muscles. Also, when you’re completely in balance on their backs, that makes it easier for them too,” Dean explained. “Now, I’m gonna let go of your shoulders. Try to stay in the same position. Press your back against me, try to get used to it,” he said, and he let go, slowly sliding his hands down onto Castiel’s hips, his skin hot against his fingers even through his jeans. He felt the muscles twitching in effort, and that made him grin. It only showed that Castiel was in fact trying to do his best.

“You know what? It’s not that bad,” Castiel said a little later. Dean felt like his grin was going to split his face in half.

“I knew you would like it,” he answered. They made a few more rounds, before Dean thought that they had tortured Gigette enough already with having to carry two persons at once. He got off of her back, but when Castiel tried to do the same, he shook his head. “Nope, not yet, my friend. Stay up there and we’ll see how you do on your own. Give me the reins. Keep your hands free, you can hold onto the saddle if you want to, though I’m pretty sure you won’t have to,” he said, and once again, he nudged Gigette into gear. This time Castiel managed to maintain the perfect position, without even having to hold onto the saddle.

“This is quite pleasurable,” Castiel confessed five laps later, even though the reason he said it was more to make Dean finally let him get off the horse than to express his enjoyment, but apparently Dean didn’t exactly get it.

“Told you so!” Dean grinned proudly. “How do you feel about some balance exercises?”

“Balance exercises?” Castiel furrowed his brows. That didn’t sound too much like getting off the horse…

“Yeah. Try to lean forward, and scratch Gigette’s ears. She likes that.”

“Scratch Gigette’s ears?” He echoed, staring at the mentioned body parts dangling quite far away from him. He swallowed, and leaned forward. To his biggest surprise so far he felt comfortable enough to lift his rear from the saddle while the horse kept walking under him. His chest touched the curve of Gigette’s neck, and finally, he managed to scratch her ears, for which she thanked him by softly whickering.

“Good job,” Dean congratulated him. “One more thing, and you’re done for today, okay? I don’t want to completely overwhelm you.”

“Thank God!” Castiel exclaimed, looking straight up at the sky for a moment, before turning to stare at Dean instead.

“Lay back as far as you can. If you manage that without falling, you’re maybe not completely helpless up there,” Dean teased, and Castiel shot him a dark look, before huffing, and arching his back. Two seconds later he was laying on Gigette’s back, his spine against hers.

Seeing Castiel’s flexibility, a few impure thoughts ran through Dean’s mind, effectively making him blush.

“You’re done. Do you want to go a few more rounds, or are you aching to feel solid ground under your feet?”

“I am aching. You can’t imagine how much I am aching.” Castiel rolled his eyes, and sighed.

“Believe me, I can. You know, there was a first time for me too. You’ll get used to it, don’t worry.” Dean smiled sympathetically, and he helped Castiel off of the horse’s back. For a short moment he held him in his arms, before quickly releasing him.

“Thank you.”

“I thought I’d ask you… I mean, if you have no other plans, I’d be really happy if you would go out with me tonight. I know this really great Italian place, Becky always said it’s the perfect place for a first date, and I… oh shit.” Dean babbled and then stopped himself, suddenly terrified of Castiel saying no.

“Dean, are you asking me out? Like, on an official date?” He asked, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Yeah, I guess I am. So, do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Yes, Dean. I would love to.”

“Is eight o’clock okay for you?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect, I’m going to pick you up at eight then.”


	7. And then we kiss

Time was an interesting thing, or at least that’s what Castiel thought about it. In a weird way minutes seemed to drag on forever, never wanting to end, while hours flew by with a loud whooshing sound he could imagine so well he was actually hearing it. He showered, shaved and then spent half an hour deciding what to wear, before finally settling for a pair of black jeans, white shirt with thin black stripes and a dark gray waistcoat. He used some gel for his hair, trying to force it to look the way he wanted it to, just this once in his life, but the almost constant bed-head look he’d been sporting was too stubborn, and in the end his hair looked even messier than it did before he had applied the gel.

A few minutes before eight o’clock he heard a car’s engine rumbling loudly. He looked out of the window, and saw a sleek black car nearing. He cast a last glance at himself in the mirror, and hurried downstairs to meet Dean. The other man was wearing black slacks with a red button-down shirt, and even though he looked a little uncomfortable in it, the smile on his face was bright.

“You look hot.” Dean greeted him.

“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself,” Castiel answered, and eyed Dean’s car for a while. “Nice ride,” he commented.

“She’s amazing, a 1967 Chevy Impala.”

“I have a Chevrolet too.”

“Yeah, a silver 2009 Camaro. I know, I saw her the day you arrived. She’s a beauty.”

“Oh, of course you saw it…” Castiel mumbled when he remembered the circumstances of Dean’s and his first meeting, and he hung his head in shame.

“Come on, just forget it, okay?” Dean said, touching Castiel’s chin and gently forcing him to look up. “What happened, happened, we can’t change it, but we can forget it, which you should do. Oh, and we should go, I don’t want to miss our table reservation.” He smiled, and Castiel found it impossible not to smile back.

The restaurant they went to was really nice, the furniture made of light gold-colored wood, the tablecloths red with tiny white patterns. The scent of Mediterranean spices and wines filled the air, and only then did Castiel realize how hungry he was. Their table was already waiting for them, and a petite brunette – her nametag said Meg – brought them the menus. It didn’t take long until they both chose their meals, but the wait for them was a little too long, and it was filled with awkward silence. After Meg laid down the plates with their starters in front of them, Dean looked up at Castiel.

“I didn’t just screw it up, did I?” He asked.

“Screw up what?” Castiel didn’t understand what Dean was talking about.

“This… whole thing. Whatever it is we have. Us. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…” He scratched behind his ear.

“It was a good idea, it’s just… I haven’t been on a date in too long. I think I forgot how to date,” Castiel laughed.

“I’m a little rusty myself,” Dean admitted with a shy half-smile, and with that the ice seemed to be broken. They fell into their usual rhythm, joking and teasing each other. It was almost midnight when they left. Castiel felt a little weird from all that wine he had drunk, but it was more of a pleasurable buzz than an uncomfortable dizziness. The drive home seemed too short, and neither of them wanted the evening to end, so they spent another half an hour sitting in the Impala, just talking. Dean wanted to kiss Castiel so badly. Every time he glanced at those full, cherry red lips he almost surged forward to finally taste them, but so far he had managed to keep himself from doing it. He wasn’t sure yet that Castiel would appreciate it, if he kissed him, so he waited.

In the end it was Dean who had to end their date though, because despite his best intentions, he almost fell asleep sitting in the car. After they said their goodbyes, for a moment Dean was sure Castiel was going to kiss him, but it didn’t happen. He waited until Castiel closed the door behind him before driving the Impala to the garage and then going to bed.

A few hours later Dean woke up. It was still the middle of the night. Sleepily he blinked a few times before turning to his other side, and trying to fall back asleep. He failed. Almost an hour later, he was more awake than before. With a loud sigh he threw his blankets off, and padded out into the kitchen to get some milk.

With the mug in his hands, he sat down on a chair, and looked out into the night. The full moon’s light was bright, almost day-like, so he could see the yard quite clearly. Something flashed white in the shadow of a huge oak tree, near a garden bench, and for a moment Dean contemplated grabbing his shotgun and checking it out. Then he saw that it was Castiel, sitting on the bench, with his legs pulled up under his chin. He looked miserable and lonely, and it broke Dean’s heart to see him like that. He downed the rest of his milk, and walked out of the house. The night air was chilly, and the grass was wet under his bare feet. He shivered, and or a moment he wished he had pulled on a sweatshirt and maybe even shoes before stepping out, but Castiel had already noticed him, looking up at him with sad blue eyes.

“Hello, Dean,” he whispered.

“Hey. What’s up?” Dean sat down next to him. “Can’t sleep?”

“No. I’ve been doing some thinking.”

“About what?” Dean asked. Castiel wriggled a little and slipped his feet onto the ground. For a second it looked like he was trying to leave, but then he started talking, looking straight ahead.

“My life. I’ve been raised in a big family. Brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces, nephews, the whole deal. If I wanted to get something, or achieve something, I had to work really hard – and alone – for it, and after a while I just didn’t care anymore about how many people I had to trample down. I lost the old me somewhere around halfway into law school, and I didn’t lift a finger to get it back, because it was easier, not to care. Almost everyone I cared about had left me, and that only made me work harder.

As you know, I became a lawyer, a successful one at that, but I didn’t do it because I wanted to bring justice to people. No, I was way too wrapped up in my need to have a well-paid job, and become… well-known. I helped some innocent people, but I also helped some criminals to a legal escape from a long time spent in jail. My last case, the one with all those corrupt top dogs? I only took that because I wanted more recognition.

When I was kidnapped… it was like a wake-up call. A really late wake-up call, but it was one, nonetheless. I just didn’t realize it then.” Castiel sighed, and looked at Dean. “After I was freed, Becky started visiting me again. We’ve always talked to each other, but before that, we hadn’t met in years. She invited me to come here, but I was too proud, and too stubborn, so I didn’t. What I did, was to try living my old life. But after a while even the most expensive wines started to taste bitter, the best food like ash… One day, I woke up, and I felt like screaming. That was the day I scared your horse halfway to death. And, as they say, everything else is history.”

“I’m glad you did,” Dean blurted out, and Castiel shot him a questioning glance.

“Did what?”

“Scared my horse halfway to death. Well, that’s not what I’m glad about, but… It’s good you’re here, I guess,” he muttered. He felt his ears burn, and he was grateful for the shadow of the tree they were sitting under, as it covered most of his face, possibly hiding his blush from Castiel.

After some thinking Dean pushed himself a little closer to Castiel on the bench. His heart was literally beating in his throat, drumming an agitated staccato. The other man’s closeness hypnotized him, he desperately wanted to close the distance between them, but he wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. So instead of doing that, he moved his fingers, brushing them against Castiel’s hand. He hoped that it looked as unintentional, as he wanted it to, but apparently it didn’t. Castiel entwined their fingers without as much as a second thought, and Dean was sure: from that time on, he would never have to fake anything just to be able to touch Castiel. He turned towards him, reached out and gently caressed Castiel’s stubbled jaw. The other man closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch, and then pressed his mouth against Dean’s, his tongue begging for entrance. Dean’s lips parted, granting access, and Castiel immediately deepened the kiss. They still held hands, not letting go of each other for a second. Dean pulled Castiel closer and closer, until their chests were barely an inch away. He lifted their joined hands and placed it over Castiel’s heart, before burying his other hand into his hair, playing with the dark, silky locks. The kiss lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and when they parted, they both were gasping for air.

“Dean…” Castiel sighed, but Dean stopped him.

“Shh, Cas. Don’t talk, just kiss me again.” He smiled.

“Did you just call me Cas?”

“Yes,” Dean admitted with a sheepish smile. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s just… I haven’t been called Cas in ages, probably since I’m out of suspenders. And school uniforms,” he grinned, “But I like it.”

“Good. Cause it fits you better than your full name.”

Castiel smiled, and kissed Dean again, licking his way into the other man’s mouth. The kisses were making them both a little dizzy because of the lack of air, yet they dived back for more and more, giving and taking, asking and granting. Every kiss felt a little bit better than the one before, yet soon they just weren’t enough. Dean shifted, and pulled Castiel into his lap, so that the other man was straddling his hips. Slowly he let his hand slide down his back, following the elegant curve of his spine. Castiel’s skin was hot even through the fabric of his t-shirt, and Dean wanted to feel, to touch without that cotton barrier, but when he tried slipping his hand under Castiel’s shirt, he was stopped.

“Don’t rush this. We don’t have to hurry… we have time,” Castiel whispered into his ear, breath tickling his skin. After Dean’s answering nod, Castiel left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses on Dean’s jaw line and neck, before returning to his lips. Despite Dean’s proximity he shivered, and that snapped both of them out of their lust-induced haze.

“You’re cold,” Dean observed, and Castiel nodded, “We could go in, it’s warmer there.”

“I know, but… if we do that, I’m not sure I can stop myself.”

“You don’t have to stop yourself.” The thought of Castiel taking control, and taking him made Dean’s blood boil.

“I know, but I… I kinda want to. I want this to be more than what I usually have, and if we keep going now, it will be exactly like what I usually have. I know it sounds cheesy, and girly, but I want it to mean something.”

“It’s okay, I know what you mean, and I understand,” Dean answered, and he surprised even himself, because he meant it. If it came from anybody else, rejection would make him annoyed, maybe a little angry too, but with Castiel it wasn’t anything like that. They traded a few more kisses before Dean reluctantly allowed Castiel to pull away.

“Sleep well, Cas.” He smiled, gently caressing his lover’s face before releasing him completely.

“You too.”

After Castiel disappeared in the distance and the dark, he climbed back into bed, and slept like a baby until his alarm woke him.

The day started out just like every other ordinary weekday, but the horses were restless and fidgety: Dean has never seen them act like that before. Crystal was even more unmanageable than the others, she kept kicking out at Dean. Instead of the usual ten minutes it took to lead the horses out, this time he spent half an hour with that. Dean knew something bad must have happened, but he had no idea what it could be, so after he finally managed to close the pen’s gate behind the last horse, he walked up to the main house. Castiel, Chuck and Becky were all sitting on the terrace, Becky was crying and Chuck’s eyes were red too.

“What happened?” Dean asked when he got near enough for them to hear his voice.

“My goddaughter is missing,” Becky said, and another sob left her lips. Chuck reached out, and pulled his girlfriend into a tight hug. “She was here yesterday afternoon with an older friend of hers. Her friend, Maggie lives two blocks away from her, closer to us, so they parted ways when she arrived home… and Tyler never got back,” she mumbled almost inaudibly, burying her head in Chuck’s shirt. Castiel stood up, and pulled Dean a little aside.

“People are crowding at her home, forming teams searching for her, we could help them. You know the neighborhood well, that could be of importance.”

“Yeah, it could. I’m going to get Crystal and look around, maybe I’ll find something.” Dean turned around, and was just leaving, when Castiel’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“I want to come with.”

“Cas, on foot we’d be too slow, and we can’t take a car.”

“I know. I know the basics of riding a horse, don’t I?” After Dean’s tentative nod, Castiel continued. “Okay, no further questions then. I’m going. Maybe I’ll just slow you down, but four eyes see more.”

“There is nothing I can say to talk you out of this, am I right?” Dean asked with a half-smile.

“Yes, you’re right. You know me, stubborn as a mule. So, let’s go.”

This time Castiel seemed to be a little more confident on Gigette’s back, or maybe it was just the adrenaline working, but Dean didn’t have enough time to dwell on that, not in that moment. First they followed the road the two girls must have taken home, but all they found was a faint trail in the dirt that could have been made by Tyler’s bike. In front of Tyler’s house there were a lot of people, trying to coordinate the search parties. It was all surprisingly organized, even though the despair was tangible in the air. Dean and Castiel got the direct neighborhood of the Shurley Estate assigned to them, along with a young woman named Hayley, who was riding a well-muscled gray mare.

It took them the whole day to sweep the area, and they didn’t find anything. The other search parties weren’t any luckier either. There was no sign of Tyler anywhere, it seemed like she just dropped off of the face of the Earth. Becky was devastated by the news, or rather by the lack of news.

After Dean de-harnessed and scrubbed down the horses with Castiel’s help, he sank down on a hay bale, pulling his knees up to his chin, and looked up at Castiel. They were both tired and dirty.

“Hey, Cas. You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Exhausted, but other than that I’m fine,” Castiel answered, and Dean knew immediately he was lying.

“You’re a terrible liar, angel. The second time you sat on a horse, you did it for almost a whole day, I’m surprised you’re able to stand.”

“Angel? Is that going to be my new nickname?” Castiel inquired dryly, and he plopped down, right into Dean’s lap.

“Only if you want it to be,” Dean shrugged. “I just remembered I haven’t even kissed you today. That mistake needs to be fixed.” He smiled, and captured his lover’s lips in a short, almost shy kiss. Silently, they sat there for a while, before Castiel stood up and pulled Dean with him.

“Come on, we need to move before we fall asleep right here in this sacred place,” He nudged Dean.

“Yeah, that may be a good idea.”

Slowly they walked out of the stable. Dean was on the verge of collapsing, and one look at Castiel told him that he wasn’t better off either.

“I hope someone will find that poor girl,” Castiel broke the silence.

“Me too. Do you want to help tomorrow?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Okay, we’ll go then. By the way, you were great with Gigette today. Not everyone could have done what you did. Learning to steer a horse is usually hard enough on a practice track, and you had to do it on the field,” Dean said, and he patted Castiel’s back approvingly.

“It wasn’t that hard.” Castiel waved his hand. “But thanks anyway.”

They stopped to trade a few good-night, sleep-well, and see-you-tomorrow kisses, and then parted ways. After a hot shower Dean all but collapsed into his bed. He wished Castiel was there with him, but soon he fell asleep. He dreamt of Tyler, she was scared and screaming loudly, running from someone and there was a little red bicycle buried in sand… Dean woke up panting. With a desperate sigh he turned around, trying to erase the memory of the depressing dream. He hoped the little girl was okay, even though he felt deep down that she wasn’t. He managed to catch a couple more hours of sleep before his alarm beeped again, telling him to get ready for yet another day.

~.~.~.~.~.~

The hope of finding Tyler alive and well diminished with every passing hour, with every day spent on a futile search for her. More and more people were giving up on her, and in the end it was only Tyler’s parents, Becky, Dean and Castiel who kept looking for her, sweeping every place for a second, a third, a fourth time. Chuck and Becky had a huge fight after Chuck said that Tyler was probably dead, and they hadn’t talked in days. Both Dean and Castiel tried their best to fix their relationship, but Becky wasn’t cooperating, even though they convinced Chuck to apologize to her.

After another day spent with a futile search for something that wasn’t there, Castiel just broke down. He was aching from all the horse-riding, he was frustrated, sad and also a little angry.

“What could a little girl like Tyler have done to deserve something like this? What did Susan Thompson do to deserve losing her daughter like that? Or Becky? How is that fair?” He yelled, and slammed the saddle down so hard Dean was sure something snapped in it.

“I don’t know Cas, I don’t know. But I don’t think anyone cares about it not being fair. If someone did, it wouldn’t have happened,” he said softly, pulling Castiel close and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I hate this so much,” Castiel whispered, and laid his head down onto Dean’s shoulder, leaning into the embrace.

“Me too,” Dean caressed his lover’s hair. “We could go to the pond, it always cheers you up. And right now, you need some cheering up. You’re tense like a bow.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Castiel agreed, and taking Dean’s hand into his they made their way to the pond. Ever since Castiel had first seen that little lake, it was his favorite place. He spent hours just sitting on the shore, feet in the water, but sometimes, when he found the temperatures okay, he even swam in it.

A few seconds after they reached the pond, Castiel was already knee-deep in the water, shoes thrown onto the shore, jeans rolled up.

“Cas, you sure you weren’t a mermaid in your previous life? Or… I don’t know, a frog maybe?” Dean joked, and Castiel glared at him disapprovingly before flicking a fistful of water towards Dean. Only a couple of drops did actually reach him, but they were cold, and that made Dean shiver. “Oh, two can play this game.” He grinned, and splashed Castiel, covering him in huge wet spots from the waist down.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Castiel hissed playfully, and he kicked out. This time his aim was better, and Dean found himself soaking wet in a matter of seconds. He laughed at Dean’s dismayed face, but when his lover started pouting, his heart dropped, and he went to wrap him into his arms. Apparently that was exactly what Dean was hoping, because the moment Castiel got near enough, he poked into his ribs, making him slip on the wet sand, and he ended up on his backside, sitting in the water.

“That wasn’t exactly fair,” Castiel growled complainingly, but Dean flashed a bright smile at him.

“All is fair in love and war, angel.”

“And which of those was this exactly?” Castiel inquired innocently, and when Dean wasn’t paying attention, he pulled his lover into the water. “Now we’re even,” he announced with a grin, and then pressed a kiss against his lover’s cool lips. Dean shifted, throwing his leg over Castiel’s thighs and straddling his hips. He leaned in for another kiss, and he moaned appreciatively when his wish was granted. Castiel’s closeness was driving him insane, and his hips bucked on their own accord, pressing his groin against his lover’s. After their lips parted, he began kissing his way down Castiel’s neck and shoulder, sticking his nose under his wet shirt. Slowly he began unbuttoning it, but his fingers were numb from the cool water, and trembling with lust, which wasn’t a good combination. To his surprise, Castiel didn’t stop him, and eventually he got the shirt undone, pushing it off of his shoulders, baring his chest. A loud groan left his lips, and he dove down to lick at one of his lover’s already hard nipples. Castiel hissed, and he grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair, pushing his head and his mouth closer still to his skin. Dean’s tongue on his nipple felt so good, he shivered with lust, goosebumps rising on his arms and his chest.

“Dean…” He keened, and gently pulled at Dean’s hair, making him lift his head so he could kiss him. It was messy, but it was still the best kiss of his life. His hands were roaming over Dean’s back, and he realized he was the only one half-naked. Without thinking he grabbed the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, and pulled it off of him. Dean’s skin was tanned, a warm golden color, and Castiel’s hand looked scarily pale in comparison as he skimmed down over his lover’s breastbone, finally reaching a nipple and flicking it playfully. Dean’s breath hitched, and knowing that it happened because of his touch made Castiel smile. He lifted his hips, pressing insistently against his lover’s body, and when he felt Dean wrap his legs around his waist, he turned them around so it was Dean sprawled under him in the water, where he pushed at him until he lay down on his back. For a while he let his gaze caress every inch of Dean, but he couldn’t stay away from his lips for long. Kissing him hungrily he rubbed his body against Dean’s, skin on skin contact ripping a loud gasp from his throat. He knew they couldn’t stay much longer in the water, it was getting dark and cool, but he tried to make the most of it. Tentative fingers followed the ridges of bones and muscles, cold touches tickled playfully at lust-warmed skin, tongues fought for dominance. It was all a little messy, but it felt amazing, and in that moment Castiel finally felt complete. Dean and him… they fit together like puzzle pieces. They kept kissing as long as they could, but eventually the cold got to them, and reluctantly they walked out of the water. They were both half-naked and shivering, their remaining clothes soaking wet.

“My balls are freezing off,” Dean complained.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sweating either,” Castiel answered with a small laugh, and he squeezed the water out of his shirt that he was holding in his hands. “Come on, let’s go home.” Quickly they grabbed their scattered belongings, and hurried home. Dean tried to invite Castiel in, but he declined the offer, saying that he needed to check on Becky, and the mention of her brought them back onto the ground of reality. The sadness over Tyler’s disappearance was a constant companion for all of them, but it was even worse for Becky.


	8. This time I know it's for real

Dean woke up panting from his dream. It has been ages since he last had one like this. The dream was sultry and erotic, starring Castiel and himself, and it left him excited, hungry and aching for more. He tried to shake off the aftereffects, but all of his efforts were in vain, and with a loud sigh, Dean closed his eyes again. His thoughts turned immediately to Castiel, he could see his lover as clear as day. His bright blue eyes were shining with lust, sweet, swollen cherry red lips curling into a smile, head thrown back, the elegant curve of his neck begging for kisses and soft bites. Dean moaned, trying to keep his emotions under control, but he couldn’t stop fantasizing, and it was starting to make him really hot and bothered. Castiel and he hadn’t even made love yet. Dean wanted it to be perfect, no matter how cheesy that sounded, and in the meantime he couldn’t help but use his fantasy to act these not yet perfect scenarios out. He imagined Castiel shrugging off his already open button-down shirt with a small movement, baring miles and miles of pale skin, all Dean’s for the taking, tasting and touching. And Dean didn’t waste any time to accept it, daydream so livid he could almost taste Castiel on his tongue, feel his soft flesh under searching, caressing fingertips. He let his hand skim down his chest, but he convinced himself it was Castiel doing that to him, and his breath hitched at the thought. Tentatively he slid his hand down to touch his hardening cock. A loud moan left his lips, and his hips moved forward on their own, pushing intently against his palm, and Dean gave himself over to the fire dancing in his veins, slowly moving his hand over his erection. He imagined taking the black slacks off of Castiel, leaving him naked and trembling with lust in front of him, leaning forward to steal a long, downright filthy kiss… Castiel sucking on his lower lip, and worrying it with his teeth, before sliding down his chest, trying to kiss and lick every part of Dean’s body. The fantasy was so intense that Dean felt the touches, Castiel’s skin sliding against his, slick with sweat, and it didn’t last long before Dean came with a shout, Castiel’s name dying on his lips. The pleasant after-buzz of the orgasm lasted for several minutes, leaving Dean sated and satisfied. After it passed, he took a shower, and got dressed. He was just finishing when someone knocked on his door.

“Who’s that?” He called out before opening the door.

“Dean, it’s me, Castiel, and I come bearing gifts.” Dean could hear the smile in his lover’s voice, and when he opened the door, he saw that Castiel was in fact smiling from ear to ear. “Good morning,” he said kissing Dean quickly on the lips. “I brought you some coffee and a few donuts, I hope you like them.”

“Oh my god, you’re awesome,” Dean moaned appreciatively, and he snatched the paper bag from Castiel’s hand. “Come on in. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I thought I’d eat with you, if you don’t mind,” Castiel answered shyly, and he ducked back out to retrieve a second paper cup and a bag of donuts.

“Sneaky,” Dean chuckled, leading Castiel into his kitchen. They ate together, quickly devouring the donuts and the coffee.

“Thank you,” Dean said when they finished, and he kissed Castiel, licking his way into his mouth. He tasted like frosting and candy sprinkles, with a hint of coffee and something uniquely Castiel. It was only making Dean hungry for more, and when Castiel pulled away, he groaned indignantly, followed by some pouting.

“Hey, don’t pout, it’s not fair,” Castiel scolded him chuckling with a fond expression, and he leaned back in to get another kiss. After they parted, Castiel stood up to clean up the mess they’d made.

“Cas, do you want to come over later today? We could make some popcorn, watch a movie or something.”

“I would like that.”

“Great. I have a lesson till six, but I’m free after that. We could meet at quarter past six here.”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay then, can’t wait. Now I have to go though, the kids will raise a riot if they don’t get their breakfast in time.”

“I can help.”

If there was a single good thing about Tyler Thompson’s disappearance, it was Castiel’s newfound fondness of horse-riding, and horses in general. He was a quick learner, Dean only had to explain or show him something once before Castiel executed it perfectly, and they both were really surprised at that. Dean had always suspected that Castiel would get the hang of it after he got over his initial fear and discomfort, but this was even better.

Everything went quicker when there were two persons working, and it was much more fun too. Dean tried to keep Castiel away from doing the work only Dean was getting paid for, not wanting to exploit his kindness. He didn’t always succeed, but neither of them seemed to really mind that. It was a whole new routine once again, the umpteenth since Castiel had became a part of his life, and he liked it even more than the previous ones.

Around midday Castiel always left for a few hours, trying to find the perfect place for his new office. He was planning on going back to his roots, starting afresh with a different clientele and smaller cases. Usually he took his own car, but after the surprise-breakfast Dean wanted to invite Castiel to lunch, so he tagged along, and they took Dean’s Impala.

About half-way to the town Castiel spotted something in the roadside dirt.

“Dean, stop. I think I saw a bike.”

“What?”

“There was something in the dirt back there. It looked like a bicycle.”

Dean put the Impala in reverse, and he backed his car, until Castiel pointed at something shiny a few feet away from the road.

“Let’s check it out,” Dean said, and he got out of the car. Castiel followed his example, and they slowly walked towards the object. As they got nearer, it got easier and easier to determine that it was in fact a bicycle, a red child’s bike. “We should stay away from it,” Dean grabbed his lover’s arm, holding him back, “Call the police. We have to stay here until they arrive.” Castiel nodded, and pulled out his cell phone.

It didn’t take more than ten minutes for the police to arrive. A petite brunette officer got out of the car.

“Hello, gentlemen, I’m officer Jody Mills. The crime scene unit will arrive shortly to see if there’s any evidence on the bike. While we’re waiting, can you please tell me how you discovered the object, and if you saw anything else?”

“We didn’t see anything else. We were just driving by, when I saw a weird silvery light from afar. We got nearer, and it looked like it was a bicycle, reflecting the sunlight. I told Dean to stop, and we found this. We didn’t touch anything, didn’t even get really close to it.”

“How close do you live?”

“Around five-six minutes by car, probably…why are you asking?” Dean answered.

“So, not close enough to see this far?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I see. Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but can I see the trunk of your car?” The policewoman asked.

“Lady, technically you have no right to ask for that, we’re not suspects.” Castiel tried to keep his lawyer self from breaking out, but he couldn’t.

“Cas, it’s okay.” Dean soothed his lover by putting a hand over his heart. “Come on over then.” He opened the trunk, and she took a good, long look at it, before motioning for Dean to close it.

“I’m sorry, I just had to check. My superiors are riding my rear about this case, and I need to take any possible leads into consideration,” she said, and she looked like she really meant it.

“It’s okay. We want to see this case solved too. Tyler’s the goddaughter of a very good friend,” Dean explained, and the policewoman nodded sympathetically.

The crime scene unit showed up shortly after that, and six officers got to work around the half-buried bicycle. They found shreds of clothing, a few drops of blood, and a long brown hair, probably Tyler’s, but no fingerprints… or a body nearby.

Dean and Castiel waited until the police bagged up all the evidence they could scour up.

“She’s dead,” Dean muttered when they got back into the car.

“All signs point towards that, Dean, but we can’t give up,” Castiel said, and he caressed Dean’s face in an attempt of calming him.

“I want to know who did this, so I can rip his lungs out.”

“I’m sure you’re not the only one. But we can’t do much about it.”

Right after Dean stopped the Impala in front of the garage, he got out of it, and went to check on the horses. Even without him saying it out loud, Castiel knew he had to leave him alone for a while, so he stayed near the car, waiting for him to return. A few minutes passed in silence before there was an incredibly loud scream to be heard. Worriedly, Castiel set off towards the source of the voice, only to find Chuck’s cat sitting a few feet away from the stable’s gate, paw held against its bleeding nose.

“What are you doing, you stupid thing? It sounded like you were skinned alive…” Castiel mumbled, and he reached out towards the cat. A small, weirdly silvery mouse chose exactly that moment to emerge from under a bush, and in its haste it began to run straight towards the cat. Instinctively, Castiel lifted the cat, and held it tight until the mouse disappeared from their sight. Before that happened though, the mouse looked up at him, an old, wise look in his eyes.

“Go. I know how you felt just now. Go, you’re free. But don’t make any trouble,” he whispered, holding onto the cat even tighter. He got quite a few scratches in the process, but he didn’t let go of the animal.

Dean watched the scene from afar, grinning.

“Cas, mice are not exactly welcome around here, you know. So, next time you take away the cat’s lunch, I expect you to consume it. It’s only fair.”

“Okay,” Castiel agreed absentmindedly, and he put the cat down onto the ground. It hissed angrily at Castiel before trotting away, probably in the hope of finding the mouse again.

“Is everything alright?” Dean asked, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m okay, Dean.”

“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you didn’t exactly convince me there. Come on, let me see your arms, those scratches aren’t that nice to look at.”

~.~.~.~.~.~

The rest of the day passed by without any special events, and a few minutes after six o’clock Dean was finally done for the day. Usually he let the horses stay longer in the pen, but he had plans for that night, and he wasn’t going to put those on hold for the sake of letting them back into the stable, so he made an exception. He led them back into their stalls, and in exchange for the shortened outside-time they each got a bonus apple.

Whistling loudly he started walking towards his house. Looking at his clock, he saw that he had a few minutes before Castiel would arrive, so he hoped he could at least change clothes. As he got nearer to the house, he saw that there was someone laying on the porch swing.

“Oh, come on, you weren’t supposed to be here yet,” he grumbled as he walked up the stairs. He came to a halt, and he smiled down at his sleeping lover. Castiel was laying sprawled on the porch swing, one of his feet dangling in the air at the end of it. The book he’d been reading was on the floor, completely forgotten, but his huge, black-rimmed reading glasses were still sitting on his nose. Dean almost reached out to wake him, but stopped himself before his hand came in contact with Castiel’s skin. Instead of poking him, first he pocketed his glasses, and then carefully he took him in his arms, lifting him off the swing.

“C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, let’s get you to bed,” Dean whispered, and Castiel smiled in his dream, instinctively wrapping one of his arms around Dean’s waist, and grabbing his shirt with the other hand. “I swear to God I’m not gonna let you get a second helping the next time Becky cooks pasta for you, your pretty ass is starting to get really heavy,” Dean mumbled, but it didn’t qualify as a complaint, seeing the bright smile on his face. Actually he was happy that Castiel put on some weight, he looked healthier than ever. Of course that didn’t mean that it was easy to carry him up the stairs to his bedroom, but in the end he managed to do it without waking Castiel up. He laid him down onto the mattress, and Castiel curled up into a ball, reaching out for Dean’s pillow and hugging it tightly to his chest.

“Cas, you’re like a friggin’ child sometimes,” Dean smiled. He pulled off Castiel’s shoes and lifted his blanket to cover the other man with it before taking a shower. Under the spray of hot water Dean kept fantasizing about Castiel joining him, about them making love, but Castiel didn’t show, and when Dean emerged from the en-suite bathroom, he saw that Castiel was still asleep, but he shifted, and was currently taking up almost the whole double bed alone. That made Dean grin, and he lay down next to him, pulling him into his arms, until his back was flush against his chest and Dean could spoon against him. Even though this wasn’t really what Dean imagined when he thought about Castiel’s first night in his bed, deep down he had to admit, it was kinda nice to just hold him, listen to his quiet breathing, his scent filling his nose. Dean sighed, and then buried his face in Castiel’s hair, pressing a gentle kiss onto the top of his head, before closing his eyes, trying to fall asleep.

Eventually he did, but it didn’t last long. Just a few hours later he was woken up by Castiel, who was shaking badly enough to make the bed move under them.

“Jesus, Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean blinked, blindly groping for the bedside lamp in the dark. Soon a bright light flooded the room, and Dean saw that Castiel was still asleep, probably having the mother of all nightmares. He shook Castiel’s shoulder, trying to wake him up. “Hey, angel, wake up. C’mon, it’s just a nightmare, wake up!” He was starting to freak out when Castiel didn’t respond, but a few seconds later he jerked awake, and stared up at him. His eyes were full of unshed tears, pupils blown in terror, black taking up almost all the blue.

“Dean?” Castiel mumbled, sounding like a frightened child.

“Shh, Cas. It’s okay, angel. I’m here, it was a nightmare. You’re safe, shh,” Dean answered. He pulled Castiel into his arms, one hand gently caressing his lover’s hair, the other wound tightly around his waist. Castiel buried his face into Dean’s neck, and his fingers dug deep into his back, almost painfully, but Dean didn’t pull away. He knew Castiel needed him more than air in that moment, so he held onto his shivering lover. It took more than ten minutes for Castiel to calm down, and Dean tried his best not to think about how long it would’ve taken if he was not there to hold him.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel whispered into Dean’s skin.

“For what, angel?”

“For… all this. I’m damaged goods,” he answered, his voice full of shame, and that broke Dean’s heart.

“Cas. Look at me. C’mon, look at me.” Gently, he forced Castiel to lift his head by pushing at his chin. “You’re not damaged goods. And even if you were… I don’t care. You’re still a keeper, no matter what. Just… please, don’t talk about yourself like that. Not now, not ever. Okay?” He looked deep into his lover’s eyes, trying to tell him everything, without having to use further words. For a while Castiel looked like he was going to argue, but the look in Dean’s eyes convinced him otherwise.

“Okay,” he muttered, barely audibly. “Thank you for being there for me.”

“Always, Cas. I’m always with you. Now sleep.”


	9. This is what it feels like (when dreams are breaking through)

The next morning found them completely wrapped around each other, limbs tangled, lips and noses almost touching. The first thing Castiel saw right after waking up was Dean, eyes closed, long, dark lashes resting on freckled skin, and a dreamy smile on his face, which made Castiel’s heart soar. Tentatively he reached out to caress Dean’s cheek, just to make sure that he was really there, that it wasn’t just a dream.

When the alarm clock went off a few seconds later, Castiel surged forward to capture Dean’s lips in a passionate good-morning-kiss.

“This was the best wake-up call I ever had,” Dean smiled after they parted.

“That’s what I was hoping to hear!” Castiel answered with a wide grin. “I don’t even know when the last time I slept for this long in one piece was.”

“Glad to have been of service.” Dean stretched his back. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Do you have eggs? I’d like some scrambled eggs.”

“Okay, eggs it is then. But… you know, you should get off of me so I can go and actually make them for you, hm?”

“Just another minute,” Castiel murmured, burying his head in Dean’s neck, clinging to him.

“Take your time.” Dean smiled, and ruffled Castiel’s hair playfully. He hadn’t been the cuddling type before, but apparently Castiel managed to put that into the past tense. Right then, lying there with Castiel curled up against him, cuddling felt pretty damn perfect. He closed his eyes, and let happiness wash over him, until Castiel finally moved, pulling away.

“I’d like those eggs now,” he announced, for a moment looking like an innocent child. Dean snorted, but got out of bed.

“You can take a shower if you want, towels are in the bathroom. Feel free to take clothes from my closet, but I’d appreciate it if you could leave my underwear alone, okay? Oh, and bathroom’s that way.” He pointed at the door leading to it, and when Castiel nodded, he went to make breakfast.

Castiel’s shower was really quick: the bread was still in the toaster, the coffee brewing, and eggs still in the pan when he walked down the stairs, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and nothing else. Silently, he sneaked up on Dean, and pressed a kiss onto the back of his neck.

“Hello, Dean,” he whispered against his lover’s skin, wrapping his arms around his chest.

“Hello yourself.” Dean turned his head to capture Castiel’s lips for a second. “Could you please put plates and mugs on the table? They’re in that cupboard up there.”

“Any preference on mugs?” Castiel asked, looking at Dean’s mug collection.

“Not really, just grab two, thanks.”

“Do you use this one?” He chuckled, holding up a huge mug, with little painted penises on it.

“I don’t even have to look to know which one is in your hands. Sam thought it was a hilarious idea to give that shit to me after I told him I liked boys just as well as girls. He actually made me drink from it once. He hid all the other mugs in the house, and drinking coffee from the pot just seemed too drastic."

“Your brother sounds an awful lot like Balthazar. After I came out to him, he bought me 16 bottles of lube for my sixteenth birthday, and wanted to take me out to a den of iniquity, a brothel with male prostitutes. Luckily, my other brother, Michael talked him out of it. I don’t think I could have done it, Balthazar was dead set on it, and he’s never listened to me.”

“Looks like we’re both the best of our families.” Dean winked, and pushed some of the scrambled eggs onto the plates. Only then did he take a good look at Castiel, and he liked what he saw. His sweatpants were slightly too big for Castiel, thus riding really low on his hips, revealing hipbones that made Dean want to lick and bite them. Groaning inwardly he tried to refrain from walking up to Castiel, and having his wicked way with him right there on the kitchen table, which wasn’t working all that well, so he sat down and focused on his food. “You know what’s funny?” He asked, poking the scrambled eggs with his fork.

“No, but now that you brought it up, I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“I think Becky knew from the beginning that eventually we would get together. When we had that barbecue dinner, she told me to ask you out.”

“Damn, Becky… I’m going to smite her one day.” Castiel blushed slightly. “She told me the same thing. I wonder how she knew I was into you…”

“Well, you were kinda up in my personal space, staring at me with those baby blues almost all the time since the first dinner with the four of us.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“You totally were. At first I thought you were just socially awkward or some shit like that, but then I noticed how you only did that to me…”

“Okay, maybe I was. But your goo-goo eyes weren’t that subtle either!” Castiel retorted.

“Goo-goo eyes? GOO-GOO eyes? I wasn’t making goo-goo eyes. You know, who does? Brats.”

“Okay, your need to reinstate your demolished masculinity has been noted, we’re awaiting answers from the jurors on the question.” Castiel said with mock seriousness, before chuckling lightly.

“That’s so not fair. How am I supposed to prove I’m right sitting in front of a damn lawyer?” Dean grumbled.

“You can try…” Castiel shrugged, and began eating. Dean glared daggers at him for a while, before following his example. After a few minutes of silence, Castiel looked up from his plate. “I’m sorry I fell asleep last night. I’m sure that wasn’t how you planned the night to go.”

“It’s okay. No problem, really. You needed that sleep.”

“I did, but I still feel a little bad about it. I was thinking, maybe we could go out for a few drinks tonight. My treat, so I can make up to you for the ruined night.”

“Cas, stop that right now. You didn’t ruin anything. I confess, that really wasn’t what I expected from last night…” He winked. “But you don’t have to make up for anything, or feel bad about anything, okay?”

“Okay.” Castiel nodded, and finished eating his eggs, casting a longing look at the coffee pot. Dean noticed it immediately, and only then did he realize that he forgot to pour coffee for Castiel.

“Jesus, Cas, why didn’t you tell me how bad of a host I am? Go ahead, knock yourself out. I have milk in the fridge, and you can find sugar in that little bowl on the counter, I know you like your coffee sweet.”

“Yeah, I do. When I was at the university, I drank a lot of coffee, black, especially before big exams. After a while I started finding the taste of it disgusting, and ever since I’ve been drinking it sweet,” Castiel explained while he prepared his coffee, and when he took the first sip, a dreamy smile spread across his face.

“Is it really this easy to make you happy?” Dean asked, motioning towards the TARDIS-patterned Doctor Who mug in Castiel’s hand. The other man nodded, and turned his attention back to his caffeine bomb.

“I’ve always expected too much from any given situation in my life, and when I didn’t get what I expected, I was disappointed. But since I’m here, I found that I’m still able to feel happy about little things, like a mug of sweet, milky coffee, a good night’s sleep, or a nice afternoon walk…” Castiel said softly a few minutes later, smiling brightly at his lover.

“This place does have a good effect on people, doesn’t it?” Dean mumbled, more to himself than to Castiel. He remembered his first day on the estate, after Chuck bought it. Both houses were neglected, uncared-for, waist-high weeds in the yards, the roof of the stable broken… and yet, it was one of the most beautiful places Dean had ever seen. It took almost a year, and a lot of Chuck’s money to fix the buildings, but when they were ready, the estate looked better than ever. He remembered the day Chuck came home with a young horse in tow, a beautiful, fiery filly by the name of Gigette… Dean had never tried to break in a horse before, but he read all the books about the subject that he could get his hands on, before he finally found the perfect method, and started working with Gigette.

“Dean?” Castiel’s deep voice snapped him out of his reverie.

“Sorry, I just took a little trip down memory lane. I was just thinking about how small Gigette was when Chuck bought her… I think I’d love to work with a foal again. I miss it. What were you saying, by the way?”

“I was just trying to let you know that it’s almost time to feed the horses, but you weren’t answering.”

“Sorry…” Dean repeated, and he looked at his watch. “Damn, you’re right. I have to go and change. Just leave everything, I’ll clean it later.”

“No, you cooked, I’ll do the washing up,” Castiel said, and it was evident from his voice that he wasn’t taking no for answer.

“If you want to… Key’s in the lock, could you please bring it to me when you’re done?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” Dean smiled, and quickly kissed Castiel, before hurrying up the stairs into his bedroom.

“You’re welcome!” Castiel called out after Dean as he began clearing the table.

When he was done with the dishes, he went up to Dean’s room to get his clothes. After some thinking, he took one of Dean’s shirts and put it on. With his clothes in his hand, he walked out of the house.

In the stable, Dean was in the process of feeding Scricciolo, who apparently either wasn’t hungry, or just wasn’t into the forage Dean gave him.

“Oh, come on Scri. That is the very same fodder you got yesterday, and you ate it then. What’s wrong now?” He asked, playing with the pony’s mane.

“Go and feed Judas, he looks like he’s gonna die of starvation any second now. I’ll try to feed Scri, okay?” Castiel’s voice came from behind him, and Dean turned around to look at him.

“Alright, let’s see how much luck you have with him,” he agreed, and exchanged the bucket of fodder for the keys dangling from Castiel’s hands. “Thanks, angel,” he smiled, and stole a quick kiss before grabbing Judas’ food.

Castiel put his clothes down onto a discarded wheelbarrow, crouched down to be on level with Scricciolo, and looked deep into his eyes.

“Little fellow, you’d better eat this, because a, you won’t get something else just because you refuse to eat this and b, like Dean said, you seemed to love this yesterday. Come on, eat it,” he urged the pony, and when he pushed the bucket under his nose, Scricciolo began eating.

“It’s so not fair. You’ve been here a couple of weeks, and some horses already like you better than me,” Dean complained, but Castiel knew he didn’t mean it.

“What can I say? It’s my natural charm that makes me irresistible. You couldn’t resist either,” he joked.

“Oh, shut up, you self-absorbed bastard.” Dean nudged Castiel’s shoulder with his elbow. “Don’t you have anything better to do than torturing me with your over-sized ego?”

“No, not really, but I can find something, if my presence is disturbing you,” Castiel pouted, and even though Dean knew he was just mocking him, he couldn’t help but use his mouth to kiss his lover’s frown away. He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist, and pushed at him until his back was flush against the stable wall. He kissed his way down his lover’s neck, lightly biting his Adam’s apple. Castiel gasped, and his hands roamed all over Dean’s body. A possessive growl left Dean’s throat, he grabbed Castiel’s hands, and pushed them up above their heads, pinning them to the wall, and keeping them in place.

“Want you,” Dean hissed, licking and biting at Castiel’s neck.

“I’m here,” he rasped, and tilted his head to provide better access for his lover. Searching for more contact, he pushed his hips forward, and when they met resistance, he started moving, rubbing his body against Dean’s. After a while it got to be both too much and not enough, so he wrapped his leg around Dean’s waist, trying to get more sweet friction. They were too wrapped up in each other to notice Chuck, who had just entered the stable.

“Holy crap!” He let out an entirely unmanly shriek when he caught a glimpse of the two men making out. They jumped apart, and Chuck felt like a jerk for disturbing them. “Sorry, I… I’ll just be back later. Much later,” he mumbled, and hurried towards the door.

“Hey, Chuck, please don’t tell a word to Becky about this, okay?” Dean called out, and that made Chuck stop, turning back to them with a questioning look on his face. “We didn’t want to tell you about this yet, and we’d like to wait with it until Becky feels a little better.”

“Oh, she’d be ecstatic if she knew, and it would make her feel better immediately, but of course, it’s your decision. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Chuck nodded, a half-smile slowly replacing the embarrassed expression on his face. “Is that all? I mean, can I go now?”

“You can do what you came to do, you know.” Dean masked his frustration with a grin.

“Eh, no. I wanted to talk to you, but… it can wait.” Chuck said, and before Dean could say anything else, he was out the door.

“That was unfortunate,” Castiel remarked.

“Unfortunate? Try fucking embarrassing, Cas. When someone walks in on you, it never ceases to be painfully awkward, no matter who it is, or how often it’s happened before.” Dean ran his hand through his hair. “But hey, I wasn’t planning on having sex in the stable again anyway. I tried it once, and let me tell you, it’s not nearly as hot as it seems to be when you’re watching porn. I had rash on my a…”

“Too much information, Dean.” Castiel silenced him by pressing two fingers onto his lips. “You should finish feeding the horses now, and I’m going to go and take a second look at that office I was talking about. I’m pretty sure it’s the one I want.”

“I probably won’t be here when you come back. I want to take Fiamma out for a ride sometime later, she hasn’t been out in ages.”

“Be careful.”

“Careful is my middle name.”

“See you later then, Dean Careful Winchester.” Castiel winked at his lover, and gave him a little peck on the lips. He picked up his clothes, and left. He was barely three steps away from the stable when he saw Becky walking towards him.

“Good morning!” She waved at him.

“Good morning. How are you?”

“Fine, I guess.” She answered with a shrug, then she took a good, long look at Castiel, and she started squealing, jumping around in one place.

“Becky, are you okay?” Castiel asked, obviously a little worried about the girl’s mental health.

“Yeah, I’m more than okay. You’re wearing Dean’s clothes… You were out the whole night, and you’re wearing Dean’s clothes. Which means, you slept at Dean’s. Oh my gosh, you and Dean! Jesus Christ! Did you have…” She began, but she noticed the stern look Castiel was giving her, and she stopped.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, but no, we didn’t. We just slept in the same bed. But we may have kissed quite a few times now,” Castiel confessed with a coy grin, and Becky promptly threw herself into his arms.

“I’m so happy for you two! But tell me one thing. When did it all start?”

“The day Tyler disappeared. We didn’t want to tell you, because we weren’t sure how you’d react.”

“How did you think I would react?”

“With you one can never know what to expect,” Castiel said, starting to feel really awkward in Becky’s tight embrace.

“Eh, that’s true I guess,” she nodded, and finally she let go of Castiel, “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, I think I can safely say that we’re happy for ourselves too,” he said with a smile, and when Becky didn’t say anything else, he started walking towards the house. Once in his room, he changed clothes and drove into the town. The office he was planning on renting was actually more like a three room apartment on the ground floor of an old house, but it was nice and sunny, situated in a well-kept, but not too posh neighborhood, and before he knew it, he had the keys of his new office dangling from his keychain. Happily whistling he set off towards the nearest IKEA, intent on buying the necessary furniture. The store was almost at the edge of the town, halfway in the countryside already, and on his way there he passed a bar named HallowInn, which looked like a saloon straight out of a western. Wooden panels were covering the walls, and it even had a horse post. He made a mental note to google it once he got back to the Shurley Estate, because he was sure Dean would like it, but only if the place was decent.

Castiel spent the better part of the afternoon in the store, wandering around between endless rows of furniture. There were moments when he regretted not letting Dean tag along with him as sometimes it was hard to decide which piece of furniture he wanted to buy, but in the end he bought two desks – a bigger, more expensive one for himself, and a smaller, feminine looking one for his eventual secretary -, four chairs, a filing cabinet and a comfortable leather couch. He scheduled the deliveries for the coming Friday, in the hope of opening his office on the Monday after that. For the first time since he woke up in the hospital after the police freed him, he felt like he was in control of his own life, and more importantly that it was good to be in control of his life.

On the way back to the estate he called Dean to tell him about the progress he made, and an idea struck him as they talked.

“Dean, your brother is a lawyer, right?” he asked.

“Yes, but he hasn’t had a case on his own yet. He’s working for the same firm you used to.”

“Does he like it?”

“I think so, yeah. Why are you asking?”

“The office I rented has three rooms. For now I was planning on using only two, as the third one needs a little renovation, but if I had an associate…” he let his voice trail off.

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

“Yes, I think I am. I know how frustrating it can be to wait for the first case they allow you to handle alone, and I can still remember how much I hated being someone’s assistant. Sam could start anew as the co-owner of an office, I would have someone I know I could rely on, and I’m sure we would make a great team.”

“You haven’t even met Sam.”

“I know. But he’s your brother, which is a bonus point. I haven’t talked to him about this yet, because I wanted to let you know first.”

“Cas, it’s your choice, and his. I’ll text you his number, and then you can talk with him about it.”

“Thanks. Hey, Dean.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be home in ten minutes. Can we go out in half an hour?”

“Yeah, I think so. I just finished my last lesson for today, and I can ask Becky to bring the horses in for the night.”

“Great, see you in thirty minutes then,” Castiel said, and then ended the call. A few seconds later his phone beeped, and he knew it was the text with Sam’s number, but he didn’t dial it yet.


	10. Love you like a love song

Once Castiel arrived at the Shurley Estate, the first item on his to do list was to check out the HallowInn’s website. The place looked great, the interior of it just as western-y as the outside, and when he read that it provided free fodder for the horses the guests arrived on, he knew that he found the perfect place to take Dean out to. Quickly he showered, and changed. Then it occurred to him that he didn’t tell Dean they would go on horseback, but he didn’t have to worry about that: Soon Dean knocked on the door of his room, wearing boots, light blue jeans and a green, plaid flannel button-down shirt.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel smiled, and captured his lover’s lips in a gentle kiss. That small touch alone was enough to make his blood boil, and suddenly the idea of going out didn’t seem that alluring, but when they parted, he noticed how excited Dean looked.

“So, where are we going?” He asked, eyes shining brightly with undisguised happiness.

“You’ll just have to wait and see. We’re going on horseback though.”

“Okay, now I’m really intrigued.”

“I hope you’ll like it. Come on now, let’s go.” Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand, and began pulling him towards the stable.

“Maybe you should take Fiamma or Honeyblossom tonight,” Dean advised. “Gigette seemed to favor her left hind leg this morning, so it would be better if she could rest, she’s done a lot of work lately anyway. I know you’re used to her, but she’s not that fit anymore.”

“I know. I’ll take Honeyblossom; she seems to be a little calmer.” Castiel said. His initial fear of horses was long gone, but he was still a little cautious when it came to them.

“She hasn’t been out in a while… I’m sure she’ll be thrilled,” Dean smiled. They harnessed the horses, and soon they were on the road, with Castiel leading the way. Dean stared transfixed at his lover’s ass, so hypnotized by the rhythmic movements it made that he didn’t even watch where they were going, and he only looked away when Castiel stopped.

“We’re here,” Castiel announced, pointing at the HallowInn. There was a horse, tied to the pole in front of the building, and tunes of classic rock were blasting through the open windows.

“I haven’t even seen this place before,” Dean said, and quickly he got off of Crystal’s back. “I have been living in this town for more than a decade now, and I’ve never been here. How did you find this?”

“I was driving past it this afternoon on my way to the furniture store, and I thought you’d like it.”

“So far I love it. Can we go in now?” Dean sounded – and looked - like an impatient, eager child in front of an open candy store with three months worth of allowance in his pockets, and that comparison made Castiel chuckle. He dismounted from Honeyblossom’s back, and tied the reins to the horse post.

“Let’s go.”

The place was filled, but not crowded. For now, Nirvana’s “Smells like teen spirit” was playing from speakers, but members of a band were preparing the little stage in the corner of the bar for a concert. The waiters and waitresses were wearing cowboy boots, jeans and flannel shirts in different colors, with a little rainbow badge on them. The moment Dean noticed those badges, he knew what they stood for. Without thinking, he reached out for Castiel’s hand, and took it into his. One of the waitresses winked at them, and after they sat down to one of the free tables, she flitted there.

“Welcome to HallowInn, my name is Jamie, and it looks like I’ll be your waitress,” she greeted them with a bright, honest smile, “What can I get you?”

“A beer, and… Cas?” Dean looked at his lover questioningly.

“I’ll have a beer too, thanks.”

“Comin’ right up!” She winked, and walked back to the counter. Soon she returned with two bottles of beer on her tray. “I almost forgot to ask, did you by any chance arrive on horseback?”

“Yes, we did,” Castiel nodded, and Jamie scribbled something onto her notepad before she left again.

“What was that about?” Dean asked.

“They are providing free food for the horses of the guests.” Castiel gave small shrug, and took a sip of his beer. “I guess with the horse ranches and estates this near, it’s good for advertising purposes.”

“Yeah, probably.” Dean clinked his bottle against Castiel’s, before tasting the beverage. “Good beer.”

Six more bottles were emptied between the two of them on that evening, and both of them were pleasantly buzzed from the alcohol, more than a little tipsy but not drunk. It was barely midnight when Dean suggested going home and Castiel agreed eagerly. The whole time they’d spent in the HallowInn, sparks of excitement had been flying between them, and with the intake of beer the sensation just intensified.

When they exited the bar, they were greeted by cool, slowly drizzling rain. Castiel shivered when the first drop of water touched his skin. He looked at Dean, who seemed to be a lot happier about the change in the weather than Castiel was: He had turned his face towards the sky, and stood still for a few moments, trying to soak in the freshness of the rain.

“Who’s the frog now?” Castiel muttered, and Dean stuck out his tongue at him before climbing onto Crystal’s back.

They began ambling towards the Shurley Estate, nudging the horses into a trot after a few minutes. When they reached the edge of the town, an idea struck Dean.

“Hey, Cas! Stop!” He called out after his lover, and without waiting, he jumped off his horse’s back.

“What’s up?” Castiel turned around, looking back at Dean questioningly. “What are you doing? It’s raining, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I know. But I wanna dance with you.”

“Dance. Dean, what are you, a 16 years old girl in love?” Castiel laughed.

“No, but I really want to dance with you.”

“Right now? In the rain? Here, in the middle of the road?”

“Exactly!” Dean grinned, walked up to Castiel, and pulled him down to him. “I’m gonna make it worth for you, believe me.” He said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

“You mean, worth the hell of a cold we’re going to get after this?”

“C’mon, it’s still pretty warm, and the rain’s not that cold either,” Dean answered, unsaid plea in his eyes.

“This is not Dirty Dancing, and I’m no Patrick Swayze either.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I was thinking more along the lines of you being Jennifer Grey anyway,” Dean teased with a cheeky smirk on his face.

“Thanks a lot, really.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “Okay, but you have to take care of me if I get sick because of you.” Finally he gave in. He just couldn’t say no to Dean when he looked at him like that. His reward was a fierce kiss, immediately warming him up.

“You weren’t this worried the other night at the pond,” Dean reminded him.

“That was then. Now… it is now,” Castiel said, and Dean couldn’t argue with that logic. Instead of that he leaned forward.

“You’re so hot…” he whispered into Castiel’s ear, pulling his hips close to his own and grinding into his lover’s body before completely releasing him. Quickly they tied the horses to a nearby tree, and Dean grabbed Castiel’s hands. He placed one of them onto his shoulder, and he held onto the other one.

“Of course I’m the girl.” Castiel complained, but Dean made him silent by pressing two fingers against his lover’s full lips.

“Shh, I’m sure you’re going to love being the girl,” he grinned, and before Castiel could have answered, he wrapped one of his arms around the smaller man, and made him sway by bending him backwards. Castiel threw his head back, baring his neck almost like an offering, and Dean accepted it without thinking, gently biting and licking at the soft skin there. Castiel moaned softly, and he pressed his chest flat against Dean’s, seeking friction and warmth. Water was running down in rivulets on their bodies, making their clothes stick to their skin. Dean held Castiel close to him, and while he continued drawing a hickey onto Castiel’s pale neck with his teeth, he pulled him forwards, and then pushed him backwards until Castiel finally caught up with the program, and started following Dean’s steps in an impromptu, clumsy yet erotic lambada, hips rolling together. The rain got heavier, and just a little colder with every second. Water matted the hair onto their heads, and Dean had to reach out and wipe the wet bangs from Castiel’s face in order of being able to look into his lover’s huge blue eyes. Tiny drops of water sat on long, dark lashes, and Dean leaned forward to kiss them away. Slowly he let his hands slide down Castiel’s back, finally resting on his ass, pulling him closer still. Dean’s breath hitched as he felt Castiel’s erection press against his, and he had to push his lover away a little to get some air into his lungs.

“I’ve always wanted to make out in the rain with someone,” he confessed, and buried his head in Castiel’s neck, breathing in the scent of summer rain and something uniquely Castiel.

“Next time, use the word make-out instead of dance, and maybe it won’t be this hard to convince me,” Castiel grinned.

“So, you think it was hard to convince you? It was a piece of cake. I know you can’t say no to me, not when I really want you to say yes.”

“Maybe you’re right about that. Let’s see if it works the other way too. Can we please go home now? I’m a little cold, and I’d really love to get you out of those wet clothes.”

“Yeah, angel, let’s go home.”

The ride home was probably the most uncomfortable one they have ever had. The rain got freezing cold by the time they reached the estate’s gate, and the wind getting stronger wasn’t really helping either. Dean knew he was going to feel bad about not scrubbing the horses down, but lust was still cruising in his veins, making his blood boil, so he just threw blankets over the horses, and he led Castiel home. As soon as they were inside Dean’s house, Castiel started undressing his lover.

“Eager much?”

“You can’t even imagine,” Castiel hissed, and with a few swift movements he opened Dean’s shirt, fingers grazing against dark brown nipples. He let his hands roam over tanned, velvety skin as he pushed the offending garment off of Dean’s shoulders, and hungrily kissed him again, pressing his body against his lover’s.

“Not here,” Dean growled, and he began pushing Castiel towards the stairs leading to his bedroom. Trying to walk without having to part was nearly impossible though, and after a while Dean ran out of patience. With a small, annoyed huff he picked Castiel up, and carried him up the stairs. “Don’t get used to this,” he added as an afterthought, and bit down on Castiel’s neck a little harder than necessary. He sat down onto his bed, with his lover in his lap. Slowly, he slipped his hands under Castiel’s shirt, craving more skin contact. They began moving together, following the quickening beat of their hearts. The kisses were becoming longer and longer, moans breathier, gasps louder as they rocked their hips together. The scent of Castiel was driving Dean crazy with lust and want. Eagerly, he pulled Castiel’s shirt off, and with one hand he caressed his lover’s chest while the other slowly inched its way towards his ass.

“More,” Castiel demanded, throwing his head back.

“We’ll get to that, angel, don’t worry.” Dean answered, and teasingly, he bit Castiel’s earlobe. As retaliation, Castiel pinched one of Dean’s nipples. “That was uncalled for!” Dean exclaimed with just a hint of annoyance. He turned around, and threw his lover onto the bed. Castiel let out a surprised gasp, and he wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, hands splayed on the small of his back, pulling him down to him. Dean went obediently, lying down next to Castiel, and he began kissing his lover’s face, his closed eyes, his nose, and his cheeks, followed the strong line of his jaw, then returned to his lips, only to swallow the moan rising from Castiel’s throat. He slid his hand slowly down on Castiel’s body, finally reaching his cock. Even through two layers of clothing it reacted immediately to Dean’s touch, and Castiel lifted his hips, trying to get more contact. Instead of lingering there, Dean decided to venture back upwards, and he leaned down to lick one of his nipples, tongue playfully swirling around the small nub. Castiel let out a loud hiss and he wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, eagerly rocking against his body.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Castiel inquired, sounding surprisingly calm.

“Of course. Think about what a way to go this is,” Dean laughed, but his actions disproved his words: He unbuckled Castiel’s belt, opened his zipper and pulled the pants off of him, along with his underwear. Finally naked, Castiel decided he spent just enough time on his back, and he pushed at Dean, until it was him lying on his back. With a predatory grin, he evened the score on the clothes-front, and covered Dean’s body with his own, sensuously rubbing against him. His hands were roaming all over Dean, the touches sometimes almost bruising, sometimes barely even there. He heard the soft pop of a bottle being opened, and he knew what was going to happen, but still he gasped when he felt a slick finger brush against his most hidden spot. Just a second later, he found himself on his back again, Dean leaning over him with a hungry look on his face.

Reaching down Castiel gave Dean’s erection a few gentle caresses, before he took him into his hand, and began moving it in earnest. The angle was a little uncomfortable, but he tried his best, and apparently it was working, at least judging by Dean’s loud panting. Castiel cried out when he felt Dean’s hand encircle his cock. The situation of having Dean all over and inside him was almost too much, and his body arched off the bed, hands fisted into the sheets.

“Dean!” He keened, and spread his legs to give Dean better access.

“I’m here, Cas. I’m here, I got you, angel,” Dean whispered, and he leaned down for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, his hand still dancing over his lover’s cock. Castiel moaned into Dean’s mouth, and for the shortest moment he blacked out when his orgasm hit him. He didn’t even notice when Dean slowly slid inside him, but he copied the rhythm of his thrusts. Trying to embrace Dean even deeper he wrapped his legs around Dean’s back. Their gazes met, and the heat in Dean’s eyes made Castiel shiver. He reached out to take his lover’s hands into his, and Dean pinned them to either side of Castiel’s head, entwining their fingers as he thrusted into him. It was sensual, slow and gentle at first, but after a while it just wasn’t enough.

“Dean, I’m… not going to break. Come on,” Castiel urged his lover, and Dean obeyed. Soon both men were panting loudly, bodies glistening with sweat. Dean took Castiel’s erection into his hand for the second time, jerking him in sync with his thrusts.

“Cas!” He cried out as he came, and the sight of the rapture on Dean’s face was enough to push Castiel over the top too.

Unable to hold himself up any longer, Dean collapsed onto the bed, and halfway onto Castiel. Trying to catch their breaths seemed to be a harder task than it had ever been before, and long minutes passed before either of them was capable of making even the smallest movement.

“That was… wow.” Castiel murmured.

“Yeah. It was amazing,” Dean nodded, and kissed Castiel’s chest. With a grunt he reached for the package of wet wipes he had left on the floor next to the bed before he left to pick Castiel up, and he cleaned them both up as good as he could without having to really move.

“I have a terrible suspicion.” Castiel began seriously. “Either you keep that stuff always in your reach, or… you planned this whole thing. You were planning to get me laid, weren’t you?” He tried to keep the façade of the mock-anger up, but it didn’t work out that well, and soon he was chuckling.

“I was hoping we would end up here, like this, yeah. But you were seducing me, and not the other way around. The movement of your hips was driving me mad the whole night! Do you even know how hard it is to ride a horse with a constant hard-on?”

“Yeah, I know. I got to experience that sensation on the way back after you molested me on the road,” Castiel pouted.

“Molested you? MOLESTED YOU? Okay, I may have molested you,” Dean admitted sleepily, and he pulled out an extra blanket from under his pillows, covering them both with it. With a small sigh he curled up against Castiel’s side, and closed his eyes. Castiel began caressing his lover’s hair, and when Dean’s breathing evened out, he shifted slightly so he could bury his face into the pillows, and fell asleep.

Dean stretched in bed, yawning loudly. He rubbed his eyes, and turned around to face his lover, who was still asleep next to him, excessively pouting in his dream. Dean watched him for a while, trying to burn his sight deep into his brain, to remember the moment forever. Smiling, he brushed a lock of dark hair out of Castiel’s face, and then leaned down to kiss that pouty, tempting mouth. Castiel parted his lips instinctively, allowing access for Dean’s tongue to caress his. Dean felt like he could get addicted to kissing Castiel, and even though the thought scared him a little, he didn’t let go of him, not for a second. He closed his eyes, relishing in his lover’s closeness, and by the time he opened them again, two bright blue eyes were looking back at him, still a little clouded with sleep.

“Hello, Dean,” he whispered, then leaned forward, and kissed the tip of Dean’s nose.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did. Your bed is very comfortable.”

“Well then, I am happy to inform you that you’re welcome in it as often as you’d like to, though not always for sleeping,” Dean answered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, okay,” Castiel nodded, and claimed his lover’s mouth in a chaste kiss. After they parted, Dean threw back the covers, intent on getting out of bed, but Castiel stopped him. “Dean, it’s raining.”

“What?”

“It’s still raining. Look outside. You can’t let the horses out in this weather now, can you?”

“Nope, not really.” Dean answered after he ascertained that it was in fact raining.

“And you don’t have anywhere else to be, right?” Castiel asked, and by then Dean could see clearly what Castiel was playing at, so he shook his head.

“I may have asked Becky to call in Andy to replace me for today anyway…” He admitted with a shy smile.

“Sneaky… sneaky,” Castiel grinned, and with a quick move he disappeared under the covers, hungrily kissing his way down Dean’s torso. Dean moaned, trying to push his body closer and closer to Castiel’s, but he held him still, keeping him in place. He flicked his tongue against one of Dean’s nipples, and Dean hissed loudly, grabbing a fistful of Castiel’s hair, just to keep him there, but Castiel had apparently other ideas. After a few teasing licks and bites he continued his way downwards on Dean’s body, dipping his tongue into his navel for a couple of times before finally reaching his cock. First he gave it a few gentle, almost experimental tugs, before taking it into his mouth. Dean’s hips snapped forward on their own, forcing Castiel to take more and more, but the man wasn’t complaining, or pulling off, so Dean reached down with both hands to caress and tickle as much of Castiel as possible. Dean loved being on the receiving end of a blowjob, but it always felt a little one-sided to him. He poked Castiel’s shoulder.

“Turn around, angel.”

Castiel lifted his head, but didn’t pull off completely, and he peeked up at Dean questioningly from under the covers, with Dean’s erection still in his mouth. The sight alone was almost enough to make Dean come, but that wasn’t what he wanted, not this time.

“C’mon Cas, turn around. Let me take care of you.”

Realization slowly dawned in Castiel’s eyes, and he turned around, aligning his hips with Dean’s face.

“I have never done this before,” Castiel admitted softly.

“I’ve only ever done it with girls… well, with one girl to be exact. But I’m sure that’s not something you wanted to know.” Dean bit his lower lip, hanging his head in slight shame. He waited for Castiel to say something, but his answer was completely non-verbal: He took Dean back into his mouth, and continued to pleasure him. He didn’t tell Dean about the flare of jealousy he felt when Dean mentioned having done something like this before, but he was sure Dean knew anyway. His intent to rewrite and replace every memory of said event with something better also went unsaid.

Dean knew mentioning a past relationship wasn’t the brightest of his ideas, but he couldn’t change that, so he tried to apologize in the best way he could: With touches. Lifting his head he grazed his teeth against Castiel’s hipbones, making him tremble, then he soothed the pain with small, kitten-like laps. His hands were roaming over the small of Castiel’s back, his ass, the inner side of his thighs. Suddenly, Castiel pulled off. At first he was just chuckling, which then transformed into a rather unmanly giggle, and when Dean ran his hands over Castiel’s thighs again, it became a fully blown laugh.

“Sorry, I’m… I’m ticklish.” Castiel gritted out, trying to contain his laughter, but Dean did nothing to make it easy on him. He kept caressing the milky pale skin, sending his lover into one laughing fit after the other. He was laughing so hard that he forgot to even attempt getting away from Dean. “Stop, Dean, please, it’s too much. I can’t…”

“Anything you wish,” Dean grinned, and finally he stopped tickling him.

“You are evil,” Castiel muttered, and sat down next to Dean with his legs crossed.

“Are you ticklish anywhere else? I just feel like I should know about it.”

“You don’t honestly think I’d tell you something like that? You already have more than enough cannon fodder to use against me.”

“I promise not to use my knowledge against you. Unless necessary.”

“And what qualifies for you as necessary?” Castiel asked, absentmindedly drawing symbols onto Dean’s skin.

“I don’t know yet,” Dean shrugged, flashing a bright grin at his lover. “I’m hungry. Let’s get some food.”

“When are you not hungry…” Castiel rolled his eyes, and he took Dean’s offered hand.

Downstairs they quickly packed a tray full of food, and returned to the bed. Dean picked up a chocolate-covered waffle, tore it into four little pieces, and offered one of them to Castiel. Instead of taking it, Castiel opened his mouth and bit into it. While he was chewing, he scooped up some cherry yoghurt with a teaspoon, and pushed it towards Dean, who accepted it without delay. Feeding each other was more erotic than either of them would have thought before, and when a few stray drops of yoghurt landed on Dean’s chest, Castiel leaned in to lick it without thinking.

In the end they spent almost the whole day in bed, naked, discovering and rediscovering each other. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they let their bodies do the talking, and sometimes they just laid there in silence, watching each other, their eyes speaking volumes. Dean was incredibly grateful for Castiel’s presence in his life, and he was intent on showing it in every possible way. Sitting down behind Castiel, he began kissing his way down on his bare back, lovingly mouthing on his pale skin. He caressed the two almost matching scars on each of Castiel’s shoulder blades, and before he could think and stop himself, he blurted out:

“What happened to you, angel?” Castiel turned his head around to look at him.

“They cut off my wings…” He joked with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and in that moment Dean desperately wanted to repeatedly kick himself for being stupid enough to ask about them.

“Damn, Cas, I am so sorry, I just didn’t think before I blabbered off. I didn’t want to…” Dean began, but Castiel turned around fully, and put his fingers on Dean’s lips.

“I know you didn’t, Dean, and there’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s part of my life, albeit a dark one, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to tiptoe around me, not even about that particular subject, okay?” Castiel said, and when Dean nodded, he pulled his head down to kiss him. “I’m not really sure how I got those scars, but I think it was when I was pushed onto the glass table in my living room. To be honest, I don’t think I want to know,” he continued when they parted, “I am grateful that those two scars are the only physical reminders of my kidnapping. At least I don’t have to see them every day. It’s not easy to deal with something like that.”

“But you’re doing great,” Dean was eager to reassure him.

“Am I?” Castiel asked with just the smallest hint of bitterness in his voice. For a moment Dean wasn’t sure how to react to that, so he chose the easiest way. He reached out, and pulled Castiel close, establishing skin-on-skin contact. Soon he felt Castiel’s mouth curl up into a tentative smile against his shoulder, and he sighed with relief.

”It’s eight p.m. We should get some dinner. What are you in the mood for, angel? We could go out, get Chinese. Or Thai.”

“Hamburgers,” Castiel mumbled.

“Hamburgers it is then. You seem to be addicted to burgers. Should I call you hamburglar from now on?” Dean joked.

“I’m sure you think you’re hilarious,” Castiel remarked dryly.


	11. Given and denied

“Hey guys! Dean! Castiel! Hello, is someone even awake?!” Becky yelled, repeatedly hitting the door with her fist. She’d been doing the same for minutes now, but so far no one had answered her, and that was frustrating her. Eventually she got bored of it, and turned to leave, but then she heard the door opening.

“What the hell, Becky? Keep your voice down! It’s early-as-fuck thirty in the freaking morning, are you insane?” Dean shouted at her, his volume not an inch lower than hers. He looked like he was just woken from sleep, which was probably true.

“Dean, just so you know: You’re not that silent either,” Castiel mumbled, and he wrapped his arms around Dean’s stomach, letting his head rest on Dean’s shoulder. Both men were heavy-lidded, still halfway asleep, wearing t-shirts with sweatpants, and they were sporting the two most adorable bedheads Becky had ever seen.

“They found Tyler!” Becky announced with a happy shriek, and that woke the men right up.

“That’s great. But how? Is she okay?” Dean asked, worry evident in his voice.

“She’s fine, considering. She has quite a few cuts and bruises, and she’s traumatized, but other than that, she’s okay. They have no idea how she got away, because what she said can’t possibly be true.”

“Why, what did she say?” This time it was Castiel who spoke. Dean turned his head to look at his lover, and a single glance was enough for him to know how Castiel felt. Soothingly he entwined their fingers, and Castiel pressed his body closer to Dean’s.

“I haven’t talked to her yet, but Susan did, and Tyler told her that he let her go, because she wouldn’t scream anymore. But, that’s… insane.”

“Someone who kidnaps kids can’t possibly be sane anyway,” Dean remarked. “So it’s definitely a he?”

“According to Susan, Tyler said he has a creepy, raspy, sing-song-y voice. She also said he’s tall and thin, but she didn’t see anything else.”

“I hope they’ll catch the bastard. And I want to be the one putting him behind bars for the rest of his fucked up life,” Castiel gritted through his teeth. Dean and Becky stared in surprise at him, they had never heard Castiel curse before.

“I’m going to go and see her in the morning,” Becky said.

“I’d like to go with you, if it’s okay with you,” Castiel offered, and Becky nodded.

“Of course. I won’t leave before eight anyway, so you can go back and get some more sleep. Or do something entirely else.” She winked, and before any one of them could have scolded her for being… well, Becky, she left.

~.~.~.~.~.~

The heat of the summer was slowly fading. At some point Dean stopped expecting his love with Castiel to fade too. Even though they hit their lows, they also climbed quite a few highs, and while it still felt too good to be true, but at least he wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop, not anymore. He was enjoying every little piece of happiness he got, without thinking about the future. Castiel and Sam opened their office on the first week of August, and when word got out that Castiel was back in business, they got swamped with offers almost instantly. This time Castiel did a better job on which case to accept though.

On the twentieth of August, they celebrated Castiel’s birthday with a garden party. Dean bought him a horse, a black mare by the name Emmaline, and just like with Gigette back then, it was love at first sniff.

As the days got shorter, and the weather colder, the horses could spend less and less time in the pen, which meant that Dean’s workdays were shortening too. Ben didn’t need a teacher anymore, and Tyler’s horse therapy was going well too. Slowly but surely she was able to get through the aftereffects of her kidnapping, though Dean had to admit that in her case Castiel was a much bigger help than him, or the horses.

September passed by quickly, and before they knew, it was already the middle of October. Dean and Castiel still spent a lot of time – almost every evening - by the little pond, walking around it or just watching the water.

The fourteenth of October seemed to be just like any other day. After Castiel arrived home from work, he and Dean went for a walk to the small lake to spend some time together before Dean had to go back, feed the horses and let them into the stable for the night.

“You look like a flasher in that outfit,” Dean commented pointing at the tan trenchcoat Castiel was wearing over his black suit. “Like a really hot flasher, but a flasher nonetheless.”

“I think I’ll just take that as a compliment. Otherwise I may be offended,” Castiel announced after some thinking.

“That’s how it was meant. Well, at least half of it,” Dean shrugged, and he sat down onto the lakeshore. Castiel followed his example, and snuggled up against Dean. In his haste to get as close to Dean as he could he tipped Dean out of balance and both of them ended up lying on their backs. “You’re so amazingly graceful sometimes…” Dean muttered sarcastically. Instead of answering, Castiel pushed himself closer to Dean, and let his head rest on his lover’s chest, fingertips tapping on his leather jacket.

They were lying there silently for long minutes, deep in thoughts. After a while Dean decided that every moment was just as good as any other moment to say what was on his mind, so he spoke up.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel asked, lifting his head from Dean’s chest.

“Maybe I am rushing it, maybe I’m not, but I just have to ask. Technically you’re living with me already anyway, so… do you want to officially move in with me? You know, I mean the changing addresses - moving all your stuff into my house - maybe buy another dresser for your clothes kinda moving,” Dean gabbled, shyly blushing a little. Castiel’s breath hitched, and for a moment he looked scared halfway to death, before he crushed his mouth against Dean’s in a clumsy, sloppy, yet oh-so-good kiss.

“Of course I want to. I’m a little surprised you asked, but yes, I want to.” He said when they parted, and he flashed his brightest smile at his lover.

“Good, because I already made a copy of the key for you, and I even emptied half of the closet. But I still think we’ll need to buy something else just for your stuff, you have enough clothes to fill a small store!” He grinned sheepishly, and then he turned them over, so he was on top, with Castiel sprawled underneath him on the grass. “C’mon angel, let’s head back home,” Dean whispered against Castiel’s mouth, before stealing a short kiss from those sweet lips.

“The things I want to do to you...” Castiel answered, voice rough with lust.

“You can show me really soon. At home.” Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively, stood up, and pulled his lover to his feet. He wanted to get back home as soon as possible, but Castiel’s plump, cherry-red lips made it almost impossible for him to part from them, so he surged forward for another kiss, which in turn led to another one, and then a third one, followed by a forth and a fifth. Even though they’d been a couple for months now, kissing Castiel still felt just as good as it did the first time, only he managed to get more and more addicted to it with every touch of their lips. They were breathless by the time they parted, and in that moment Dean wanted nothing more than continuing right there and then, but he knew it wouldn’t be such a great idea, as it was getting really cold. Sighing loudly, he pulled away from Castiel, took his hand and started pulling him towards the house… their house, he corrected himself. They stopped halfway for a few more kisses, not being able to keep themselves from each other for long. By the time they reached the gate of the Shurley estate, they were almost running, the lust cruising through their veins making them quicken the pace.

In the driveway of the main house, a blood-covered man in torn, black clothes did his best to open the door of Chuck’s pickup truck, while another man kept watch to make sure no-one would disturb them. Soon the lock gave in, but before they could get into the car, they were interrupted by loud laughter, sounding nearer and nearer every second. The men looked at each other, both of them pulling out a gun, and hid behind the car. Dean and Castiel didn’t notice them, until it was too late, and both of them had the barrel of a gun in their backs. They pulled them a little farther apart from each other.

“Don’t fucking move,” the man holding Dean captive hissed.

“One move, or one sound, and the head of your pretty boyfriend will have one more hole in it,” the other one continued, even though it was completely unnecessary. Both Castiel and Dean were frozen to the spot, terror paralyzing them. Dean felt the press of the gun in his back, he knew that if he turned around, he could bring his attacker out of balance, knocking the barrel aside, but the other man could shoot Castiel the moment he started moving, so he stayed put. Dean looked at Castiel through the tears of shock suddenly flooding his eyes, and he felt rather than saw Castiel looking back at him.

“You guys are now coming with us, for leverage over the police in case they find us,” one of the men announced, and he started pushing Dean towards the car, but Castiel’s voice stopped him.

“Please, let him go,” he whispered, and Dean’s heart stopped for a moment. “Let him go, and I’ll go with you, without you having to force me. Take me, just let him go.”

“Cas, NO!” Dean yelled, but the man behind him hit him in the head with the gun.

“Shut up,” he gritted through clenched teeth, but Dean just continued anyway.

“Cas, don’t. I…” He said, but he got hit again, this time hard enough to break the skin on his temple, blood slowly trickling down his face.

“You heard what he said: Shut the fuck up!” The other man interjected, and he let go of Castiel, positioning himself so that he could catch him if he started running. “Okay, offer accepted. Get into the fucking car, and I’ll let your boyfriend go.”

Castiel nodded, and he started walking towards the car. When he got near enough to Dean, he slowly reached out, and pulled him close. For a moment the men looked like they were going to attack them, but when they saw Castiel leaning close to his lover, they let him be.

“I love you,” Castiel whispered, and he kissed Dean. The kiss tasted foul, bitter… It wasn’t a see-you-later kiss, it was a goodbye-I-may-never-see-you-again kiss, and Dean silently begged his lover not to go.

“I love you too,” Dean choked out. “Be careful, and come back to me, okay?” He asked, even though he was almost certain that he was never going to see Castiel again. He contemplated climbing into the car with him, but he knew nothing good would come out of that.

“Okay, lovebirds, that’s more than enough now. Move!” One of the men ordered, and Castiel obeyed, as he promised he would. He knew it was risky, he couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t drag Dean along even though they promised not to, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Dean being held captive for a second longer, not if he could do something to prevent it. To his biggest relief, the men really did let Dean go after he climbed into the backseat of the car, and he turned around to look at him, as they drove off. One of the men still held him at gunpoint, but he wasn’t going to do anything. At least not now. Not until they left the estate.

After he was let go, Dean stood rooted to the ground for almost a minute, before he could move again.

“You stupid self-sacrificing bastard!” He yelled, needing all of his strength to keep himself from sobbing. At his yell, Becky ran out of the house. “Becky, call the fucking police, Cas was taken by two men. They don’t seem to be too smart, but who knows what they’re planning. They’re driving Chuck’s truck, and as far as I could see, they turned north, towards the bay,” he instructed as he started running for his car. He heard Becky’s scream and then Chuck’s voice yelling something after him, but he didn’t stop. A few seconds later he was already behind the wheel of his Impala, and he shot out of the garage. The rear of the car drifted a little on the gravel before Dean could get her back under control. The Impala hurtled past the main house, then the gate, and he took a right turn, intent on following the stolen car with his lover in it. It didn’t take him more than a minute to catch up with it, it was whizzing along at a speed Dean didn’t think Chuck’s pickup was even capable of, and he had some difficulties with keeping up, especially because he tried to fish out his cell phone to call the police, just in case Becky forgot to mention any important information to them. He managed to find the device, and held it securely between his cheek and shoulder after dialing. After the third ring, a nice female voice answered, but Dean interrupted her.

“I’m Dean Winchester, and I’m currently following a stolen vehicle heading north, towards the bay on Highway 14, we just passed milestone 40, I think. The car’s a four-door Nissan Frontier, silver and a little beat up. Two armed men are occupying it, they took my partner hostage.”

“We are aware of the situation, Sir. Please, don’t go near the vehicle, for the sake of your safety. Three cars are on their way, estimated time of arrival in three minutes. Those men are extremely dangerous, even though they don’t look like it,” the dispatcher answered, sounding actually concerned. “Sir, did you hear what I said?” she asked, but Dean only growled at that, and ended the call. He fixed his stare at Castiel’s head through the windshield, and he maintained a comfortable distance between the Nissan and the Impala, trying to stay unnoticed. At first, it didn’t seem that hard, the road was full of sharp turns, but then they reached the bay, water glistening in the late fall sunlight, waves breaking on sharp rocks quite a few feet under the level of the highway. The road there was straight for quite a while, and Dean saw the man in the backseat turning around. He looking straight at him, and Dean knew that was the end of going unnoticed. The Impala swerved on the road as he jerked at her wheel, desperately trying not to get shot by the man leaning out of the truck. The first shot missed, but the second went right into the middle of the Impala’s windshield, shattering it, thus making it impossible for Dean to see anything. Without thinking he reached for the lucky horseshoe he kept in the glove compartment, and used it to knock the broken windshield out of its place. By the time he managed it, the only thing he could see was the truck breaking through the barrier, and disappearing from sight. Screaming, he put the brake pedal to the metal, bringing the car to an instant halt, and got out of it. He heard a deafeningly loud crash, and he knew it was made by the truck hitting the rocks. He ran to the edge, and reached it just in time to see the vehicle go up in huge flames.

“NOOOOOOO!” He yelled, tears filling his eyes. He sank to the ground, pulled his knees up to his chest, and just stared at the burning remains of the truck, mumbling incoherently to himself. The flames were biting at the metal of the car like rabid dogs, tearing it apart piece by piece.

Sirens were wailing faintly in the distance, and the three police cars arrived approximately two minutes later. A young, blonde female officer got out of one of the cars. She looked around, barked a few instructions at the members of her team, and walked up to Dean.

“Sir, are you okay?” She asked, even though she could clearly see that he was not okay. “I’m Sergeant Ruby McBridge. You must be Dean Winchester. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m… I’m not sure.” Dean rasped. “I tried to follow them from a distance, but they noticed me, shot at me, and… they ended up in the water somehow. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.”

“Mr. Winchester, it can’t possibly be your fault,” she assured him, even though she knew it was all in vain, he would blame himself anyway, no matter what she said. “The accident unit and a medical car will arrive shortly. Is there anything we can do for you? Do you need us to call someone?” She inquired, voice full of sympathy.

“No, thanks. I’ll get my shit together myself, I just need a minute.”

“Your head is bleeding pretty badly. A paramedic will take a look at it, as soon as they arrive.”

“It’s not necessary… I just want to be left alone,” Dean mumbled, and even though the police officer obviously didn’t agree with him, she didn’t start arguing.

“Let me know if you need anything.” she nodded, and walked away. “Come on people, don’t just stand around there, for fuck’s sake!” she yelled at her team, “We can’t do much until the unit arrives, but someone should seal off the perimeter. Oh, and call the bay guards already, we need to know what’s going on down there.”

Dean tried to shut her voice out of his head, but her instructions were yelled way too loud for that. After what seemed like an eternity, the accident unit arrived with a fire-engine and an ambulance in tow, and that snapped Dean out of his reverie. He stood up, walked up to his car and sank onto the dark leather seat. He was fighting his tears, and for now, he was winning, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He picked up his phone from where it fell when he dropped it, and called Becky.

After that, it was all a blur. He couldn’t really see, couldn’t think. He moved, when he was asked to, but other than that, he didn’t register anything from the happenings around him. It got a little better when he felt the familiar scent of his house, but it only lasted for a moment, and when that moment passed it got even worse. Without being prompted to do so, he walked up to his room, and laid down on his bed, staring out into the purplish twilight. The sheets smelled like Castiel, and that made Dean furious. He got up, and swept them all down onto the floor before repeatedly kicking them.

“Chuck, what is he doing?” Becky asked worriedly, trying to peek through the half-opened door and over her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Venting his anger. I think we should leave him alone for a while. Sam will arrive soon, maybe he’ll know how to deal with Dean when he’s like this,” Chuck answered, and he closed the door.

~.~.~.~.~.~

A few hours later Sam walked down the stairs coming from Dean’s bedroom, an expression of the purest despair on his face.

“How is he?” Becky asked, holding Chuck’s hands tightly in hers.

“He’s… It’s bad. He won’t move, let alone talk, won’t eat or drink. He’s just laying there on his bed, staring through the window. He’s grieving.”

“But there’s still some hope. It’s not sure Castiel is dead. I mean, they haven’t found him yet,” Sarah said, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

“I know, and I’m sure he knows it too, he’s just trying not to grasp at straws,” Sam answered, and he wrapped his arms around his fiancée. “This is so not what was supposed to happen tonight,” he whispered, sinking down onto the couch and pulling Sarah with him. “Dean said he was going to ask Castiel to move in with him, and we were going to tell him that we’re engaged, it was supposed to be a fun night…”

“Please, stop torturing yourself. And us,” Sarah chided him gently. “He’ll get through this somehow, I’m sure.”

“It’s not the end result that has me worried, it’s the way leading to it,” Sam shook his head.

Silence filled the room, everyone was just sitting there, deep in thoughts. Dean’s phone was lying forgotten on the coffee table where Chuck put it after he pried it out of Dean’s cramped hand, and it startled everyone when it started ringing. Sarah was the first to move, she grabbed it and ran up the stairs to bring it to Dean. She held it out for him to take it, but he didn’t move, so Sarah decided to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, I’m Sergeant Ruby McBridge, and I’m looking for Dean Winchester.”

“I’m Sarah, his brother’s fiancée. He can’t come to the phone now. Can I help you?”

“There are a few recent developments in the case of the accident Dean witnessed. I would really appreciate it if I could come over and update him in person.”

“I am not sure he is in the right condition for that, but by all means, please come over,” Sarah answered after some thinking, and she rattled off the address to the police officer.

She arrived barely ten minutes later, carrying a beige coat on her arm. Sam jumped up from his seat to greet her.

“Long time no see.” She smiled tiredly at him. Sarah shot a questioning look at her, then at her fiancée.

“I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances,” Sam muttered, and when he noticed the jealous expression on Sarah’s face, he began explaining. “Before I started working with Castiel, usually I was the one who had to go to the police and copy the files needed for our cases. And I ran into Ruby almost every time.”

“No surprise, seeing how those files you needed were made by me in ninety-nine percent of the cases.” Ruby tilted her head, and leaned against the wall, looking around in the room. “I guess you want to know about those recent developments too, right?” She asked, and when everyone nodded, she continued. “We found two bodies in the car wreck. One of them was shot pre-mortem, at least that was the opinion of the medical examiner. It probably killed him. The other, well… I don’t know how to put it nicely. He was burned alive when the car exploded. Honestly, probably the crash alone would have been bad enough to kill a person. Their bones were almost shattered by the force of it, they wouldn’t have survived it either way. Both persons were male, early forties.”

“Early forties?” Becky echoed. “Castiel was only 36.”

“We are aware of that. As I was saying, we found two bodies only. We didn’t have time to examine dental records yet, but we are pretty sure that those two were the kidnappers. We also found this.” She lifted her hand with the coat in it.

“That’s Castiel’s,” Dean said. No one had even noticed he was there. “He was wearing that coat, and I was teasing him that he looked like a flasher in it.”

“We found it hanging from a rock, halfway between the edge of the road and the car. If I had to guess, I’d say the person wearing it jumped out from the car, possibly shortly after the vehicle began falling.”

“So, you think Castiel wasn’t in the car anymore when it exploded?”

“That’s what I think, yes. That doesn’t mean that there won’t be any evidence proving otherwise, even less that it’s true, but that’s what the signs we found point towards.” Ruby explained, and held out the coat towards Dean, “You can take it, if you want it. We have already examined it, there is nothing on it we could use.”

“Thanks.” Dean nodded, and took the coat. “Is there any chance he is still alive?” he asked quietly.

“There might be a tiny chance, but even if he did jump out of the car before it crashed against the rocks, he must have fallen down, just like the vehicle did. There is nothing we know for certain. Maybe he was lucky, and survived it. I know it’s hard, but… maybes are not something I would base any hopes upon.” She shook her head. “We keep searching for him, but that is the only promise I can make.”

“I… I understand,” Dean said, and he went back into his room, with Castiel’s trenchcoat clutched tightly to his chest.


	12. A different kind of knight

Dean woke up to loud whickering, coming from much nearer than the stables.

“What on earth?” He muttered, trying to sit up. His head was pounding wildly, mouth dry as if someone had stuffed a cotton ball into it, and bitter like medicine. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before. The bed was empty, no sheets in sight, only a tan trenchcoat wrapped halfway around his torso. Shucking the coat off of his shoulders, he walked to the window. Looking out, he almost fell on his back in surprise. There was a huge, beautiful Friesian horse on the lawn, with one of its front legs stretched out straight forward, the other bent at the knee, its head bowed down, almost touching the ground. “What on earth?” Dean repeated, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was sure that it was just a dream, or a hallucination. It had to be one of those, because trained, Friesian show horses were not exactly known for wandering around, and he would have known if Chuck had bought one. No matter how long he rubbed his eyes though, the horse was still there. The only difference was that it lifted its beautiful head while Dean wasn’t looking, and it was staring up at him from under the long locks of its mane.

Dean hurried down the stairs, and tiptoed past Sam, who was sleeping on the couch. When Dean stepped of the house, he found that the horse had moved again, and had come closer to the door, whinnying quietly. Careful not to startle it, Dean took a step towards it, and to his biggest surprise the horse did the same. Three more steps later the horse was close enough for Dean to touch, and before he could have reached out, the horse overtook the lead, nudging his shoulder with its nose.

“Hey there, sweetheart. You’re so gorgeous. Oh, you are really beautiful,” Dean cooed quietly, stroking the horse’s mane. He ran his hand over its neck, looking for any identification signs, but he didn’t find anything. He crouched down to check if the horse was male or female, and ascertained that it was a stallion. “Where are you from, huh?” he asked, expecting no answer, but suddenly the horse lifted his head, making Dean’s hand slide a little lower on his neck, and there was something small under his skin. “You have a microchip? Great, let’s see who you belong to.” Dean started walking towards the stable to get the chip scanner, and without being prompted, the horse followed him. Once Dean found the scanner, it didn’t take long to check the number on the chip and search for it in the database. It turned out that his name was Devil’s Advocate and that he came from a very prominent bloodline, but there was no information about his owner. “That’s weird,” Dean muttered.

All of a sudden, Devil’s Advocate made a loud, yelp-like sound, and Dean saw Emmaline’s head sticking out from her box, bared teeth still dangerously close to the Friesian’s rear end. It was obvious what had happened, and suddenly Dean saw red. “What the hell did you do, you stupid bitch? Biting is not allowed in this godforsaken stable, damn it!” He yelled at the mare, pushing her head back inside, and without thinking he slammed the upper half of the door closed too. That was something he had never done before, and Becky, who had witnessed the whole scene, was almost shaking in fear. She could feel the anger coming off of Dean in waves, and it was crippling her. For a moment she was afraid Dean would notice her rooted to the spot on the threshold, and maybe take a swing at her, but it didn’t happen. Dean sank to the ground, back against the wall of Emmaline’s stall. Devil’s Advocate nudged him gently, taking a step closer to Dean, and when the man reached out to stroke the horse’s neck, he took another step, and let Dean bury his face into his thick, pitch-black mane. Becky could see from the shaking of his shoulders that he was crying, and she turned around to leave him alone. Silently closing the entrance gate behind her, she leaned against it. The current situation wasn’t easy on her either, but she couldn’t even imagine how bad it must be for Dean. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Chuck sneaking up on her, and she cried out when he circled his arms around her from behind.

“You scared the ever-living crap out of me!” She turned to face Chuck, and plunged her pointer finger into his chest.

“Sorry. How’s Dean? Did you find him?”

“He’s in the stable. Apparently he’s got a new horse, or something. I didn’t talk to him, but he’s not okay. He yelled at Emmaline. I have never seen him so angry at a horse before. Or in general, for that matter. He was kinda scary,” she admitted quietly.

“Let’s just hope that Sam is right, and Dean will get through it without any lasting aftereffects.”

The arrival of Devil’s Advocate was a welcomed distraction, but it was also only temporary. For a while, it was enough to take Dean’s mind off of Castiel’s disappearance, but the wonder of it wore off quickly, and soon the painful tug of worry and sadness was back. Trying to fight it took all of Dean’s strength, but eventually he lost the fight. He spent the better part of the day with tearing up the neighborhood, looking for any sign of Castiel. The bay where the accident happened was still busy, search parties, bay guards and the occasional police officers trying to scour up new pieces of evidence… or a dead body. The latter was something Dean didn’t want to think about, even though he knew that Castiel was probably dead. For hours he walked, looking everywhere for his lover. The only thing resulting from that was his growing frustration, and sometime early in the afternoon, he reached the point where he just couldn’t stop the tears of anger and pain.

After he arrived back at the Shurley estate both mentally and physically exhausted, he spent a few hours trying to track down anyone who could know anything about a lost Friesian. He called every horse ranch, circus and horse show in a sixty miles radius, but it seemed like Devil’s Advocate didn’t even exist. Dean posted entries on several online forums about horses, hoping to hear from the horse’s owner soon, but until that happened, he decided to handle the horse as if it was one of their own. Becky squealed with delight when she saw the horse, nicknaming him Date immediately after Dean told her his name. Dean found the nickname stupid at first, but Becky repeated it so many times while she helped Dean scrubbing the horse down, that it stuck.

Later that day Dean took Devil’s Advocate out for a ride. Despite his size, Date was amazingly graceful, his steps light, almost as if he was dancing. He was also incredibly good at following both vocal and touch-transmitted instructions, reacting quickly and effectively to all of them. Dean didn’t know how used to running Date was, so he made it easy on him, but when they heard something that sounded like a young girl’s scream, Date shot off at break-neck speed towards the source of it without being prompted to.

The sound indeed came from a little girl. She was struggling to get away from a masked man, who tried to drag her to his minivan. Dean didn’t even really have the time to analyze the situation they rode right into the middle of, before the man pulled out a knife, holding it to the child’s throat.

“Come any closer, and I will slit her throat,” the man said, flashing a creepily child-like smile at Dean through the hole of his mask over his mouth. The smile turned into an ugly sneer when Dean slid down from Date’s back. Dean was anything but calm, but he took a step closer to the man. Even though he had never heard that raspy voice before, he was sure he knew him. It was the same man Tyler was talking about, and for the second time that day, Dean saw red, but for a very different reason this time.

“You son of a bitch!” he hissed, and took another step. The man pressed the blade closer to the girl’s throat, and she stopped struggling.

“Look at that. What do you think you are, the white knight in shining armor?” He asked with a weird cadence, completely focused on Dean, not paying a second of attention to the horse silently inching its way closer to him.

“Nope, but I’m the one with a smart horse!” Dean yelled right in the moment Date’s front right hoof hit the man’s right elbow with a sickening crunch. He dropped the knife and the girl too. Screaming, she ran to hide behind Dean. The man was writhing on the ground, clutching his obviously broken arm tightly against his chest.

“What’s your name?” Dean crouched down to the level of the small girl.

“Gloria,” she answered, lips trembling, her huge brown eyes filled with tears.

“Okay, Gloria. Have you ever sat on a horse?”

“No.” She shook her head, sending her brown pigtails flying.

“Now you will,” Dean said, picking her up and put her onto Date’s back. “Hold on tight!” He instructed her, and walked up to the man who was still lying on the ground, deadly still by now. Just for safety’s sake, Dean kicked the knife even farther away, even though the man was unconscious. While dialing the police and then talking to the dispatcher, Dean pulled off the man’s mask. The sneer seemed to be permanently frozen onto his face, but other than that, he looked like a normal, ordinary guy, nothing special or creepy about him. Except his bloodshot eyes, which popped open when Dean bent closer, and the man grabbed his neck. Gloria screamed again, hugging Date’s neck tightly.

Dean struggled against the stranglehold, but it didn’t seem to be much help. His vision was swimming, dark spots blacking out half of the world, but Dean landed a kick into the man’s groin, and he was released immediately. Using the momentary weakness of the man, Dean found a rock, and hit the man’s head with it. This time he knew better than going any closer, but the man didn’t move. Soon the police arrived. Not surprisingly, they knew who he was when they saw him. They didn’t know his name, but there was a warrant on him under the pseudonym Alastair, for multiple kidnappings and even murders. It only occurred to Dean later, how lucky Tyler was that she wasn’t killed. Dean gave his statement, and then the officers left, with Alastair handcuffed to the backseat.

An ambulance came to check up on Gloria, and soon after that her parents arrived too. It turned out that she was supposed to be on a field trip with her class on the Harvelle Estate, but she ran off when no one noticed. Her mother scolded her, but she was too happy to be really angry. Tears were streaming from her eyes when she thanked Dean, and Gloria’s father seemed to be close to tears too. When no one was looking, Dean climbed onto Date’s back, and they trotted home.

~.~.~.~.~.~

“They say time heals all wounds. That’s bullshit. You only get used to the pain,” Dean explained, lying on his back on the hay-covered ground, nursing a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. Devil’s Advocate looked at him with his huge, dark chocolate eyes, almost human-like understanding shining from them. He moved to nudge Dean, then nuzzled his face, and Dean reached out to caress the horse’s soft nose, only to find that he couldn’t quite control his limbs. He let his hand fall, and continued talking. “I’ve been looking for him for hours every day, like a mad man. Maybe I’m really mad. It’s been months now without Cas. Fucking months without him, and it’s not a damn bit easier. That sucks,” he hiccupped, “You know, maybe we’d even be married by now. He was always good at bringing out the chick-flicky side of me. He just looked at me with those big baby blues, and most of my common sense went poof.” Dean let out a humorless chuckle, and turned onto his side, curling up into a ball. Date just stood there, facing Dean, his hot breath fanning over the man’s face as breathing evened out slowly. Only after he fell asleep did Date close his eyes too.

Long and peaceful sleep was something that hardly ever came to Dean in those days, and that particular night wasn’t one of those rare moments. Even his alcohol-induced slumber didn’t last longer than a couple of hours, and he was already wide awake hours before dawn was breaking. He listened to the horses’ breathing, and the noises Maniac made in her sleep, hoof knocking on the wood-covered brick wall. Those sounds were familiar, soothing, and for the shortest of moments Dean felt like he could fall back asleep without having to drink a drop of alcohol, but he heard a loud screech that was everything but familiar and soothing. It sounded like it was made by the Hookman himself, and Dean shivered. Scrambling to his feet, he sniffed the air. There was something in it that made him antsy, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was.

Careful not to startle the horses, he snuck out of the stable. With a pitchfork in his hand he made a round around the building, and came back empty-handed. There was nothing going on. Why was he having the heebie-jeebies then? “Calm the frak down, Winchester, there’s nothing there,” he thought. A loud sigh left his lips, and he decided to spend the rest of the night in the house. Maybe he could catch a late-night rerun of Doctor Sexy. Or, he could watch Doctor Who on DVD and swoon a little over David Tennant. Once inside the house, he delighted in the welcoming warmth, and toeing off his boots, he padded into the kitchen to make coffee. While he waited for it to brew, he turned on the TV and plopped down onto the couch. Taking the remote into his hand he was about to change the channel, but when he saw what was on the screen, he cursed loudly. Without thinking, he called Chuck. The phone rang for almost a minute before he finally picked up.

“What the hell, Dean?” Chuck growled as a greeting.

“Alastair has escaped. The fucker who kidnapped Tyler has escaped. Did you know about this?” Dean gritted through his teeth.

“No. I didn’t. Holy mother of all.”

“You’d think the police would at least pony up and call me about it, seeing how I was the one he kept threatening to kill during his trial!”

“Dean, he doesn’t know where you live.” Chuck tried to be the voice of reason, but Dean wasn’t having any of that.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about what he knows or doesn’t know. But I’m sure as hell not going to sit on my ass and wait for him to come and get me!” He yelled. There was some indistinct chatter on the other side, and after that it was Becky who spoke to him.

“Hey, Dean. I know you’re not happy about this, but what exactly are you planning on doing? You can’t go and hunt him down or something like that,” Becky’s voice was soft and calming. “If he’s smart, he won’t try to do anything anyway. But… I’m going to call Ruby, just for safety’s sake. I’m sure she will send someone over to watch out for Alastair.”

“I don’t need babysitting,” Dean hissed, but he felt his anger evaporating.

“Then don’t act like a brat throwing a hissy fit. Yeah, the situation is bad…”

“And that’s an understatement!”

“But freaking out won’t help the matter. Do you want to come over, and sleep here?” She asked. Dean had to admit that he was a little surprised at how calm and mature Becky acted, but it helped him to overcome his anxiety, and in that moment he was really grateful for that.

“No, thank you,” he sighed.

“Okay then. I will hang up now, and call Ruby. I’ll let you know what she says, okay?”

“Yep,” Dean nodded, and he ended the call. He felt a little calmer now, but his instincts were still screaming like crazy. He walked back into the kitchen, and prepared his coffee. With the mug in his hand he settled down on the couch, and started playing the DVD he had in his player. He was only halfway through the movie when he smelled smoke. Alarmed, he walked around the house to check if there was something burning, but he didn’t find anything, even though the smell of smoke was getting heavier. After some thinking, he grabbed his shotgun, and went outside to check. That was when he heard the horses’ panicked whickering, and his heart dropped in fear. He set off towards the stable. There were burning hay bales all around the building, and as Dean got closer, he smelled gasoline.

He was so focused on the burning stable that at first he didn’t notice Alastair sneaking up on him from behind, and by the time he did, it was too late. He felt the tip of a blade between his vertebrae, the shotgun was taken from him, and he froze to the spot.

“I would love to slit your spinal cord right here and right now, but then I’d have to carry you, and that wouldn’t be good, now would it?” Alastair sounded like he was cooing a baby, his breath hot against Dean’s nape, the stench of his body sickening. “Start walking. Any moves I don’t approve of, and I may do it anyway. Believe me, I’m a master at things like this. You’d be crippled before you could scream ‘no’,” he threatened, and Dean couldn’t do anything but obey. He was steered towards the stable. The door of it was wide open, and before Dean knew it, he was shoved inside, with the door slammed shut behind him. There weren’t any flames inside – yet, but Dean knew the relief was temporary. The air was thick with smoke, and the horses were in terror, whickering loudly. Dean tried to kick the door down, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, and he kicked the door once more, just for good measure. He looked around, trying to find something useful. Then he remembered that he still had his cell phone on him, and he called the police. The dispatcher tried her best to keep Dean as calm as possible until the units’ arrival, but when the first flame broke through the wall of an empty stall circa three minutes after Dean was pushed inside the burning building, all pleas to stay calm fell on deaf ears.

“Fuck this shit, I’m not just going to sit around here and wait till I’m roasted like a pig!” Dean announced suddenly, and disconnected. His cell began ringing almost immediately, but he ignored it. Not caring about possibly being trampled to death by panicked equines, he went to open the stalls, allowing the horses to get a little farther away from the flames. Suddenly, he had an idea. He gathered all the fire extinguishers, along with the thick blankets stored in the stable to keep the horses warm in case of an eventual heating problem. The horses were running around in circles, except Devil’s Advocate. He just stood there, looking at Dean with sad eyes.

“Hey, Date. Come here, baby,” Dean clicked his tongue, trying to lure the horse closer. He knew Date was smarter than most horses, and suspected that he was smarter than some humans. Nudging the other horses out of his way, Date walked up to Dean. “Help me, sweetheart, please,” Dean begged, and he kicked the back door repeatedly while looking straight into Date’s eyes, trying to explain his plan to him. When another flame broke through the wall, Mirage reared up, knocking a stall door open with his front hooves in the process. Apparently that was all Devil’s Advocate needed to add two and two together in his pretty head, and get four as the result. He copied Mirage’s movement, and standing on his hind legs, he kicked the door with the front ones. “That’s it, gorgeous, that’s it,” Dean said, and he smiled when Crystal began helping. The smoke was suffocating, and Dean doubled over in a coughing fit. He pulled up the neck of his t-shirt to cover his face, and he began wetting the blankets in a water trough.

After what seemed like eternity, he managed to get all twenty of them soaking. Quickly he threw them onto the horses’ backs, one by one, covering as much of them as he could. The door was squeaking louder and louder. When Dean was sure that it wouldn’t need more than one kick, he covered Crystal too, and climbed onto Date’s back, using the last two blankets to cover themselves. He made the horse back up a little, so they could gain some momentum. “Now or never,” Dean whispered, and he nudged Date into gear. The horse’s full weight crashed against the door, and it opened, but behind it there was a wall of fire that they had to jump over. The heat was scorching, and Dean was sure they were all going to die. He hugged Date’s neck tightly. “Cas, you can’t imagine how much I wish I could see you again!” he thought as they flew over the flames. Date yelped in pain when one of the flames bit into his left hind leg, and his tail caught fire too. After they landed on the ground in a safe distance from the burning building, Date didn’t stop. He ran towards the garden pond, and jumped into it. It wasn’t deep, but there was just enough water to kill the flames that were feeding on his tail. The landing in the pond wasn’t exactly gentle. The momentum knocked Dean off of Date’s back, he hit his head on a rock, and after that all he saw was darkness.

“Dean. Hey, Dean. Wake up. Come on, baby, wake up,” Dean felt cold hands against his face, and he heard the voice too, but… it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be Castiel. Except, it was definitely his voice, and the touch on his face seemed really familiar too. Groaning, Dean cracked his eyes open, and the first thing he saw was a pair of bright blue eyes.

“Cas,” he moaned, and his gaze flitted down onto Castiel’s full, pink lips to watch as a dazzling smile spread out on them. “Did I… am I dead?” Dean breathed out, and he tried to sit up.

“No, you’re not dead. But you hit your head pretty badly, so I wouldn’t try to move if I were you.” Castiel said, and he tried to push Dean back onto the ground. Dean’s head was indeed throbbing with intense pain, but it wasn’t enough to keep him away from Castiel a second longer. He surged forward, and he claimed his lover’s lips in a passionate kiss. It was like every cell in Dean’s body was very much alive, and singing with joy. Dean buried his hands into Castiel’s thick, dark hair, and the touch of the silky locks against his skin felt like coming home. Suddenly, Dean remembered what happened, and he looked around worriedly, trying to take in his surroundings, only to find that he was sitting in the edge of the garden pond on the estate, and that time seemed to be frozen around them. Nothing was moving. It was weird, but Dean only shrugged, and went back to kissing Castiel within an inch of his life. When they parted, somebody plopped down onto the ground next to them.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” a cheery male voice said, and Dean turned around to look at the owner of it. The man was faintly familiar, longish brown hair framing his face, warm hazel eyes alight with mischief, but Dean had no idea where he knew him from. “Let me tell you, I am a little disappointed. I was sure you’d figure it out sooner or later, but that it would take months and a case of arson for it to happen…” The man continued, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about, and who are you?” Dean asked nervously, looking at the man like he had two heads.

“Come on, you can’t be that stupid. I’m a Trickster, but you can call me Loki.”

“Loki,” Dean echoed. “Like… the demigod?”

“Exactly like the demigod. Or, more like exactly THE demigod.”

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Dean turned towards Castiel.

“Yes, I do. Let him finish,” Castiel said, and he pulled his lover closer.

“Thank you, Castiel,” Loki nodded, and continued, fixing his stare on Dean. “By any chance, do you remember saving a mouse, who then told you to be careful what you wish for, because it may come true?”

“Are you crazy?”

“Generally yes, but… not in the sense you’re thinking of. I’m not familiar at all?”

“I may have seen you before, but… For God’s sake, just stop playing with me, I’m so not in the mood for this,” Dean growled angrily, hands balled into fists by his sides.

“Okay, okay, no need to yell, big boy. A few years ago I stepped onto quite a few toes that I wasn’t supposed to, and...” He started explaining, but Dean interrupted him.

“And now he begins the story with Adam and Eve, just great,” he said, rolling his eyes, but Castiel silenced him.

“Like I’ve been meaning to tell this like an hour ago, I screwed with people I shouldn’t have, yadda yadda yadda… And now I’m the one that’s screwed; only it’s permanent. I’m bound. I can’t interfere with people’s lives like I used to. I can only use my powers for good, only for people who did something good to me, and even then only when I am explicitly asked to. While it’s not the most ideal situation, even doing good with my powers is better than doing nothing with them, so I tend to run around as a mouse, hoping someone would save me, thus doing something good for me. Possibly before a cat got me, because believe me, being eaten alive by a cat is everything but fun.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is that I saved you from a cat when you were a mouse, and now you helped me because I wished I could see Cas again?”

“In a nutshell, yes,” Loki nodded.

“But that’s like nine flavors of crazy, with a little topping of insane.”

“Dean, look at me,” Castiel interjected quietly. When Dean did so, Castiel cupped his face between his hands, and kissed him. “I am here. I was dead, my body was badly damaged, I drowned, and now I’m here, next to you. And I’m permanent. I’m staying. Isn’t that enough?” He said softly, his breath tickling Dean’s spit-slick mouth.

“That’s more than enough. It’s everything,” Dean whispered, entwining his fingers with Castiel’s.

“Gods, you two are more disgusting than the sappiest romantic movie ever made.” Loki stuck out his tongue disgustedly.

“Oh, shut up.” Dean flipped him off, but then he realized that maybe he shouldn’t have done that. He was a little scared when he looked up at the demigod, but the Trickster didn’t look overly interested, much less hurt. Absentmindedly, he stared at the stable, the building still encased in unmoving flames.

“Because I happen to really like horses, I’ll help to get all of them out in one piece, if any of you asks me to. Also, because I am such a good person at heart, I’ll even leave my four-legged assistant Devil’s Advocate with you. Consider him a… reunion gift. But, that’s all. Don’t even try to bargain for more!”

“We wouldn’t dare to dream about bargaining for more,” Castiel said softly. “Loki, please help the horses get out in one piece, and leave Devil’s Advocate with us, even though I have no idea who or what that is. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” the demigod shrugged.

“Wait, what are we going to tell the cops about Castiel?” Dean asked when he saw that Loki was ready to leave.

“Oh, for Odin’s sake, you want me to pre-chew the food for you?” He lifted his gaze towards the sky, opening his arms exasperatedly. “You are both clever boys, you can figure something out. Can I finally let go of the time before holding it back drains my freaking Duracells? Thank you!” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly everything was alive around them.

Dean’s clothes were soaked, and he was shivering from the cold. He wished he could stay close to Castiel, and bask in his body heat for a little while longer, but the stable was still burning, even though Chuck and Becky were trying to put out the flames.

“Stay here. It’s better if they don’t see you yet,” Dean said to Castiel. He got up, grabbed a bucket and went to help with the fire. The firefighters arrived just a minute later, and soon the last flame was extinguished too.

Suddenly, they heard a gunshot, and shortly after that Ruby appeared from somewhere behind the building, wiping the blood off of her split lip with the sleeve of her black hoodie. There was a bruise blossoming on her left cheek, and her hair seemed to be a little burnt, but other than that she seemed to be fine.

“Alastair is dead; I shot him in the face. He got off way too easy, the bastard. I didn’t want to kill him, but I had to,” she announced loudly, and sank to the ground. “That jerk tried to push me into the fire,” she said, running her hand through her hair. When she realized that she lost some hair to the flames, she cursed. “I’d kill that goddamned, shit-headed motherfucker for a second time if he wasn’t dead as a rotting doornail already.”

“She certainly has a mouth on her. I think, it if wasn’t for you, I would really like her,” Dean teased when he plopped down next to Castiel. Everyone was occupied with the smoking remains of the stable, like the firefighters, or was in shock because of the smoking remains of the stable, like Chuck and Becky, so no one had noticed Castiel yet. Dean had gathered the horses together, made sure that they were all okay, and only then did he go back to Castiel.

“Fortunately, I’m here. Lucky me,” Castiel sighed, petting Devil’s Advocate’s soft nose.

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, and he looked up at Date. “Hey, pretty boy. You saved my life, I hope you know that.” The horse looked back at him, and pulled his snout up into a grin.

“Is he a new one?” Castiel asked, nodding towards the horse.

“Yes. That’s Devil’s Advocate, Date for short, and he’s only been here since… since you had disappeared. I don’t really want to talk about this, but I do want to tell you one thing. If you ever, EVER pull a stunt like that on me again, I swear I’m going to kick your pretty ass.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, I really am, but I couldn’t let them take you. I just couldn’t.”

“And how do you think letting you go felt?” Dean yelled, and he felt tears prickling at his eyes. Angrily, he rubbed them with his fists, until Castiel stopped him, taking Dean’s hands into his.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel repeated, and when Dean looked into his bright blue eyes, his anger disappeared. Castiel was even more beautiful than ever, and Dean’s breath hitched at the sight.

“I love you,” he whispered, pulling his lover into a tight hug.

“I love you too.”   
It wasn’t easy to come up with a believable story about Castiel’s return, but in the end they used the good old “temporary amnesia” card, and it worked. Or maybe everyone just happy to have him back, and didn’t care about reasons or circumstances…


	13. (Baby, you're a) Firework

“Rise and shine, Dean!” Castiel beamed at his still halfway asleep lover, repeatedly poking Dean’s shoulder like an overexcited child.

“I’m already shining just fine …” Dean mumbled as he pulled the sheets over his head. “I hate it that you’re always this cheery in the morning,” he added as an afterthought, and shifted to bury his head even further into his pillow. Castiel slipped his hand under the sheet, and began caressing Dean’s bare back, fingertips following the curve of his spine. At first Dean muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘leave me alone’, but soon he melted under his lover’s gentle touch, and after a few minutes he was purring like a satisfied cat, body arching up to meet the caresses. Castiel continued drawing invisible, intricate patterns onto Dean’s skin, and his ministrations were soon pulling breathy moans from Dean’s throat.

“Keep going,” Dean hissed when Castiel’s fingers started working at the knotted muscles of his shoulders, his initial gruffness apparently forgotten.

“Bossy much?” Castiel grinned, but he did as he was asked to. Though he’d never said it out loud, he loved the effect his touch seemed to have on Dean, even after more than two years. The happy noises Dean was making were starting to get Castiel hot and bothered, so when Dean rolled over onto his back, the thin white sheet barely covering his half-hard cock, he knew that they won’t get out of bed any time soon. Before he knew what was going on, his hand was on Dean’s erection, jerking him off slowly, but firmly. It was hot and dirty, and Dean’s pants were getting louder with every sensual stroke.

“Dean. I want to be inside you, baby. Can I?” Castiel asked almost inaudibly, and Dean nodded, spreading his legs immediately. Castiel’s breath hitched at the gesture, and he positioned himself between Dean’s legs, fingers reaching out eagerly for his lover’s most hidden spot. They’d spent most of the previous night making love, so Castiel didn’t have to waste too much time on preparing Dean. Soon they were joined in the most intimate way possible, their movements frantic and possessive, kissing, touching, grabbing, marking, teasing, biting, licking… It was messy, but it felt amazing, and neither of them managed to last particularly long.

“I love you,” Dean said, hands buried deep into Castiel’s hair, stroking the wet dark locks.

“You know that was the first time ever you said that before me, right?” Castiel asked, right hand splayed lazily over Dean’s heart, fingers tapping in rhythm with its beat.

“I don’t know. Was it?” The grin on Dean’s face was meant to be innocent, but they both knew it was just an act.

“Yes, it was,” Castiel nodded, and he lifted his head. “This is not exactly how I wanted to do it, but this is a history book-worthy moment, so…” He began, and pulled something out of the bedside drawer. Dean’s eyes went as wide as saucers when he noticed the tiny, blue phone booth-shaped box in Castiel’s hand.

“Is it bigger on the inside?” he tried to joke, but it fell flat, making it obvious that this wasn’t the moment for jokes. Castiel opened the box, and there was a thin, platinum ring in it. He opened his mouth to say something, but Dean stopped him. “Before you say anything, let me just get something, okay?” Castiel nodded, and then he mimicked Dean’s reaction to the jewelry box. Dangling from Dean’s fingers there was a little, blue velvet bag, and it didn’t take too much to figure out what was in it. For seconds they just stared at each other incredulously, until Dean started chuckling lightly.

“At least I don’t have to ask then, I guess,” Castiel said with a wide smile.

“Yeah. That’s a huge relief, because I couldn’t figure out a way to do this without sounding like a total sap.”

“C’mon, Dean. You are actually a sap, so why do you try to hide that?” Castiel teased, and received a glare as an answer.

“Call me a sap again, and you can wait till Judgment Day for the next breakfast in bed, made by me.” Dean grinned, and he reached out to take Castiel’s hand into his. “I hope the size is right. I wouldn’t want to exchange this one,” he muttered as he opened the small bag, fishing the ring out. It was a simple white gold ring, but with two tiny angel wings engraved into it. Dean took Castiel’s left hand, and pushed the ring onto his finger with a bright smile. It fit perfectly, and it looked great on Castiel’s long finger.

“I love it,” Castiel whispered as he took a closer look at the jewel, and kissed Dean passionately on the lips. “Come on, let’s see if yours fits too,” He continued as they parted, and without waiting for Dean’s answer, he put the ring onto his lover’s finger.

“It’s perfect,” Dean nodded, and he lifted his hand to stare at the engagement ring gracing it. “Cas, just tell me one thing. How exactly did you manage to make me do something as chick-flicky as proposing to you?” he grinned.

“Technically, you didn’t propose. I did. But it’s okay, I’m happy anyway,” Castiel said with a small shrug, and he claimed his fiancé’s lips in a hungry kiss.

-The end-


End file.
